


Children of the Skies

by Master_G



Category: Original Work
Genre: Fantasy, Gen, Magic, Multi, Original Character(s), Original Fiction, Original Universe, POV Multiple, POV Third Person
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-13
Updated: 2021-03-04
Packaged: 2021-03-13 17:53:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 34,027
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29405802
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Master_G/pseuds/Master_G
Summary: 600 years ago, Luciel Anwar, the prophesied Daughter of Light, sealed away the armies of the Demon Queen with her blade, and brought peace to the land.It is now the present day, and the world is under attack by a new, mysterious threat. Due to a twist of fate, Sidan, a lowly guard of the city of Estrellis, acquires the same sword that Luciel used to defeat the demons. Sidan must now embark on his own journey, and stand up to the monsters that have invaded his beloved home.But living up to the legacy of his legendary predecessor will prove to be no easy task. And it appears that Luciel herself was worried about something else, a threat much greater than any demon or monster. One that seems to be related to the very weapon he is holding...
Comments: 10
Kudos: 1





	1. Prologue - The Daughter of Light

**Author's Note:**

> My first attempt at a full length story. Constructive criticism is very welcome.

Throughout her short but eventful life, she had worn many names.

At first, she was just Luciel Anwar. The only child of a minor noble house, she had lived a relatively normal, if fortunate childhood. She played with her friends, went to school, and did plenty of other things that a girl of her age and social standing was expected to do.

When she got older, her parents made it known that she was to contribute to her family’s fortune when she came of age, and eventually become the head of the House of Anwar. This meant private tutoring lessons in finances, etiquette and magic, and attending social gatherings with other big names to make connections with powerful families. Life back then wasn’t always easy, but it was simple. She knew her place in this world, and she would do her best to live up to her parents’ expectations. Or so she thought.

Her name, Luciel, was composed of two parts: _Luci-_ , supposedly a derivative of a word meaning “light” in a now long-dead language, and _-el_ , which meant “daughter of” when added at the end of another word. In short, it could be translated to “daughter of light”. This trend of names ending with _-el_ , though once common with nobles and wealthy families, had declined in recent decades, along with its masculine counterpart of _-an_ , though her parents obviously didn’t care about that. As for why they chose the “light” part, that was because she had been born on a flawless summer day without a cloud in the sky. Still, she had never received any grief for her somewhat old-fashioned name, and she never really gave much thought to its etymology.

The men who came to visit her shortly after her twentieth birthday, on the other hand, cared very much. They claimed that an army of demons would soon overrun the land, and only she, the Daughter of Light prophesied over two hundred years ago by King Magnus the Third, could stop them. All the signs were there, they said: her name, her birthday, her height, even the material of her favourite necklace. She responded by laughing them out of her property, but not before they made some more cryptic predictions about the future that would supposedly prove their claims. She did not care for the mad ramblings from a long dead king that she had never heard about before, and the mere idea of a demonic invasion was so ridiculous she didn’t know where to begin.

Except a few days later, the demons did attack. And when a small number of them came to the village close to her manor, she inadvertently drove them off exactly like the madmen had predicted. Troubled, she did not shoo them away when they came back, listening to them more intently this time. It was now undeniable that there was truth to what they were saying. Frankly speaking, she did not want that kind of weight on her shoulders. But if what they claimed was true, and she had good reason to believe it was… then she was the only one who could repel this threat. And so, after much consideration, she accepted. And thus, she became the Daughter of Light.

She’d gained other names throughout her adventures. The citizens of the Jerdelia Republic uncreatively dubbed her the Saviour after her pivotal role in repelling the demon army during the Battle of Jer. Ralthas, the third companion she had acquired on her journey, pledged undying loyalty to her after saving his life, and referred to her as his _Devo_ , roughly translating to “guardian spirit” in his birth language. Even two years after having met him, she still felt uneasy about his shameless devotion towards her. The demons themselves had their own name for her: the Nemesis.

The Demon Queen, during her final confrontation, had given her another: the Jailer. She couldn’t disagree.

And now, roughly three years after her journey started, she had finally done it. The demons had been sealed to the Underworld, their place of origin, and would likely stay there for a very, very long time. After the news of this travelled over the land, the masses would certainly give her yet another name. She didn’t care. She didn’t want to be the Saviour, or the Nemesis, or the Daughter of Light. She just wanted to be Luciel again.

 _Well,_ she thought with half-hearted humour, _at least names ending in -el will definitely come back in fashion now._

She should have been elated. She wanted to be elated. She had saved the world. Wasn’t that a childhood dream of everyone that had ever lived? But she couldn’t find joy in her victory. Not after what she’d learned. Not after what she’d done. And she couldn’t say anything, not even to her closest allies. Or else _he_ would hear, and his response would be swift and brutal. She had ideas on things she could do, but…

“You alright?”

The question broke her out of her reverie.

Luciel glanced at Liv, the woman walking besides her. She was tall, and despite her thin frame carried a backpack that was as heavy as her like it was nothing. Her skin had an odd, pale yellow-brown tone, and her long, white hair contrasted with her overall androgynous figure.

“Sorry,” she replied, welcoming the distraction. “Was I spacing out?”

“You looked lost in thought.”

“Just thinking about the future. Where to go from here.”

It wasn’t a lie.

Her companion grunted in response. Though that woman was stoic most of the time, Luciel could tell she was bothered. Liv was after all, the first person that had accompanied her on this journey. Over the years, the two of them had become very close, in multiple ways.

They continued in silence the rest of the way. The dense, dark woods they were traversing eventually gave way to a clearing. In the centre of it was a large, grey stone that stood out from the vegetation surrounding it. Though it didn’t seem like much, this was one of the first places she had gone to after accepting her duty, and found the tool that had made her victory possible. Speaking of…

Solemnly, she walked to the stone, and removed the glove covering her right hand. What was underneath was not the same pale skin that covered her other hand, as one would expect, but a bright pink, crystalline material that still stretched and strained much like actual flesh would. Luciel held her hand in front of her. The pink material continued up to the wrist, where it abruptly transitioned back into normal skin there.

In a flash of light, her hand was suddenly replaced from the wrist down by a sword that looked like it had been carved out of a single block of this pink crystal. She swept her right arm through the still air a few times, slashing at nothing in particular. The sword moved with grace and precision, as if it was an extension of its wielder’s body. Which it was.

Though the sword was at the centre of this silent crisis of hers, she still wanted this one final moment with it. The weapon had served her well throughout the years, and she would miss it, despite everything.

Once she was satisfied, she pointed the bonded blade towards the stone, then thrust down. The sword sank down like butter. With another flash of light, it separated from her body. The sword now had a hilt, also made of that same pink crystal, with her newly flesh and blood right hand wrapped around it. She let go, flexing her fingers experimentally.

“... Weird to have it back to normal after all this time.” she muttered.

“So this is it, huh?” Liv said, quiet.

“Yeah,” she replied.

The two stood in silence for a minute or two staring at the sword, now in its resting place.

“Will I… ever see you again?” Liv asked.

“Of course you will, silly,” Luciel answered with a playful tone. “Just because we accomplished our goal doesn’t mean I’ll stop spending time with you. Those bonds we forged? All of us - we’re more than just teammates. In fact, I intend to make reunions a regular thing. Don’t go finding a reason to skip out on them now, miss hermit!” she teased her.

Though her jovial tone was forced, she truly did mean that. She couldn’t imagine spending the rest of her days without seeing the people that had stuck with her through all this ever again. Except maybe Ralthas. That guy was just weird.

“Right, stupid question. Sorry I asked, Luce,” Liv said with a small smile.

Despite everything, Luciel felt hope welling in her chest at the reminder of a different sort of name she had obtained. Not some pretentious title conjured up by an uncreative hack, but a simple nickname. Luce. Something that was spoken not in foreign palaces by politicians lining up to kiss her ass, or in battlefields by her enemies, but around campfires by people she would trust with her life.

The future may have looked bleak, but with her friends at her back she felt that everything would turn out alright. She could, and would prepare. She would find the cracks in his scheme. She could do this. Well… maybe not today though. She deserved to have a bit of fun first.

“How about we go back to your place and get absolutely shit-faced on your latest brew before we get dragged to some boring award ceremony, eh?”, she said, this time more sincerely.

“That sounds like a terrible idea,” Liv laughed. “Let’s do it”.

She just had to hope that the next wielder of the sword would do the right thing, and that her actions hadn’t doomed the world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Posting what I currently have made on Spacebattles and Royal Road.  
> Many thanks to the Cauldron Discord server, and my good friend TaskRabbit for proofreading and feedback.


	2. The Hermit and the Sword 1.1 - Slice

**Part 1 - The Hermit and the Sword**

_638 years later_

Estrellis. Capital of the Kingdom of Morance, and its crown jewel.

The most prosperous city of an already prosperous nation, it was a bustling economic centre that brought visitors from all over the world, from powerful businessmen to immigrants looking to start a new life. Its elegant architecture, world renowned restaurants, and magnificent royal palace made it an attractive destination to tourists as well. Partly built on a cliff facing the ocean, its flawless view of the sea made it particularly popular with newlywed couples on their honeymoon. Being the final resting place of the Demonbane, it also brought its fair share of pilgrims who came to pay their respect to the Daughter of Light.

Right now, however, the beauty and spiritual significance of their city was the furthest thing from the mind of the Estrellians. This was particularly true for a young city guard currently fighting for his life against a threat he knew nothing about.

Sidan found himself cornered by the unknown. Only 20 minutes ago, a pleasant summer evening had been thoroughly derailed when a translucent, grey forcefield had appeared around the city, extending well into the sky. Shortly after, while everyone was still reeling in confusion, _they_ had attacked.

Crawling out from sewers, climbing over the cliff, and even from particularly wide cracks in the sidewalk, they were now overrunning the streets, attacking anyone who was still outside.

If Sidan had to compare them to any creature he knew about, real or imaginary, it would be a bunch of telepathically linked snakes, though even that was stretching it. Each of them looked like a mass of two meter long, metallic grey ribbons that kept weaving and sliding past one another in a hypnotic pattern. Despite this, the things kept their structural integrity, and could adopt a variety of shapes, from flattening themselves to squeeze into tight spaces to a vaguely humanoid shape the size of a ten-year-old child for combat, though with significantly longer arms. Sidan knew from experience that those ribbons were razor sharp, and had quite a bit of strength behind them. No eyes, mouth, or any features that he could find familiarity in. He didn’t even know how they were able to see.

The twenty-three-year-old city guard had been trying to regroup with his sergeant when he found himself stuck between two of them. Gritting his teeth, he readied his seldom-used sword, and tried his best to ignore the sting from the dozens of injuries he had received in the past few minutes. Thankfully most of them had already been partially healed to shallow cuts. He would have restored them all the way on any other day, but magic took energy to perform, and he expected to receive a lot more cuts before the day was over. For now, he would have to be content with healing them just enough to stop being life-threatening.

For a tense few seconds, the two monsters didn’t make a move. He’d already killed three of their kind, and they might have somehow sensed that he was more dangerous to them than the average citizen. But the three he had killed had been alone, and they had been hard enough by themselves. Against two of them at once, he didn’t fancy his chances very much. If he wanted to get out of this alive, he had to make the first move.

He turned around, and with a sudden burst of speed, dashed towards the one that had initially been at his back. The monster went on the defensive, slithering away with a snakelike motion, while at the same time braiding ribbons together and quickly lashing at him from a distance.

He cut down those strikes, making sure to keep a tight grip on his sword, lest the abomination wrench it from his hands. No matter how many of those ribbons it sliced in half, it didn’t seem bothered in the slightest, continuing its retreat without changing anything. Meanwhile, he received plenty of cuts on his arms and legs in the process, the thing slicing through the joints of his light armour with precision.

Sidan’s boot caught on something, and he stumbled. His opponent wasted no time, reconfiguring its body into a form with thicker limbs that could grab him and take advantage of his mistake.

_And… there_ , Sidan thought with grim satisfaction. From what he’d seen, these weren’t all that smart, but they weren’t mindless animals either. Which meant they could be tricked.

As the monster’s mass shifted around, there was a brief moment where a trio of ribbons that was normally hidden from sight was visible. Slightly thicker than the others, coloured blue, green, and red, respectively, they stood out from the grey of the rest.

Sidan quickly recovered from his feint, and sliced those colourful tendrils apart. The thing collapsed like a puppet with its strings cut, the mysterious force assuring its structural integrity no longer there. His gamble had paid off. These three ribbons seemed to be the closest thing to vital organs that the monsters had, and destroying them was as far as he knew the only way to kill them. He’d gotten lucky with this one and handled it with minimal injuries, but he still had…

Before he could finish that thought, the other jumped on his back, making him fall on his knees. As he struggled to get back up, he felt a crushing pressure around his neck, trying to choke the life out of him. Instinctively, he focused his magical energy in his neck, making it physically more resistant and delaying his death by a precious few seconds.

In a panic, he tried to hack at the tendrils covering his neck to set himself free, but found that his opponent had grabbed a hold of his sword, pinning it in place. Instead, he let go of it, strengthened his hands and forearms, and desperately reached backwards into the mass of writhing razor strips.

After fumbling around for what felt like a minute, but was really only five seconds, he finally found his target. Gripping the vital tendrils with both hands, he pulled, the enhanced strength currently coursing through his limbs snapping them in half.

The pressure around his neck immediately stopped, and he took a desperate gulp of air, then another, and another, before the rational part of his mind told him that he was awfully exposed kneeling in the middle of the street. In a daze, he dragged himself behind the fence of a restaurant’s terrace, and focused on getting his breathing back under control. Which was proving a hard thing to do.

His thoughts kept drifting back to that pressure on his neck, to how close he had been to getting his trachea crushed, or worse. In the two years that he’d been part of the city guard, he’d never been involved in anything like this. The closest thing to actual combat he’d had to do was breaking up a few street fights and handling the occasional violent drunk. Incidentally, a drunkard was also the cause of the worst injury he had received prior to this. Despite barely being able to stand up straight, the man had been able to cast a mean fireball, and he’d received a pretty nasty burn to his face before he could restrain him. Nothing that a few days of healing magic couldn’t heal, but his mother had almost cried when she’d seen it.

Thinking about his mother only worsened his panic attack. He had no idea if she was still alive, though he could take comfort in the fact that the monsters didn’t seem to be attacking people staying indoors, at least for now. If she had any self-preservation, she would stay in her tailor shop, assuming she still hadn’t packed up for the night.

In the midst of his scattered thoughts, he seriously considered hiding in a building himself and waiting until this whole thing was over. He had seen many people cowering behind windows, fearfully watching what was unfolded in the streets, but otherwise unharmed. He would have appreciated that safety. But he couldn’t. He had a sworn duty to protect his city. Besides, he had no idea what the things wanted. There was no guarantee they wouldn’t come after the hiding people once they were done with the ones in the street. He needed to learn more. For that, he had to find his sergeant.

Sergeant. He hung on to that thought. As a member of the Estrellian City Guard, he wasn’t powerless. The fact that he was still alive was proof enough. The two spells he’d used during this fight were all the magic he had been taught, but they were very useful. The healing generally wasn’t fast enough to make a difference in the middle of a fight, but it made it very hard to permanently injure him, and barring extremely severe injuries, he would be in top form the next day. If it wasn’t for it, he would have surely succumbed to blood loss by now.

The second temporarily enhanced select body parts, greatly increasing their muscle strength and making their flesh more durable than rock. This one was much more energy consuming than the first, and was generally only used in short bursts. Keeping it active for several seconds straight may have saved his life, but it also consumed nearly half of his magical reserves in one go. To top it off, his allotted replenishing potion had been smashed to pieces in his first fight.

While not as flashy as other kinds of magic, these two abilities served the city guards very well for the vast majority of the situations that they were needed in. Of course, they didn’t stand a chance against someone who was truly talented and versatile with combat magic, but in these cases, they had other people to handle those situations. People who were probably defending the palace right now, and could not help him right now.

The thoughts helped him return to reality, and once he did, he took stock of his situation. He instantly cringed at the state of his hands. Plunging them into the beast like he had had completely shredded his thick leather gloves. His flesh, despite the strengthening, was riddled with cuts of all kinds, looking in places more like ground meat than an actual hand. He imagined his neck didn’t look too pretty either. Weirdly enough, the pain wasn’t as intense as he imagined such an injury would produce. He wasn’t sure if that was good or bad.

He spent the next several minutes using his healing magic, hoping that nothing would find him in his little hiding spot. He noted grimly that his reserves were running dangerously low.

“Sidan! Is that you?”

Sidan felt relief washing through him as he heard his sergeant’s voice.

“Yeah, it’s me,” he replied weakly. “I, um, could really use a potion right now.”

“Devo’s tits, lad! What the hell happened to you?”

“Got cornered by two of them, Sarge. Had to get creative.

Sergeant Callahan kneeled in front of him, his thick red moustache wrinkling in concern. He handed Sidan a small vial filled with a translucent blue liquid, which he gulped down greedily. He briefly grimaced at the foul taste, before sighing in relief as a familiar warmth spread through his body, replenishing his magic.

“You okay to stand?” Callahan asked.

“I am now.”

“Then on your feet, lad. We’ve got some walking to do.”

As Sidan painfully stood up, he noticed that he and the sergeant weren’t alone. Julia, the newest recruit in his own unit, was standing watch. An immigrant from New Jerdel, her light brown skin and straight black hair contrasted sharply with the pale skin and red, curly hair of most native Morench people. Sidan could tell that she was nervous, but she still showed admirable composure for someone who had only done this job for four months.

His unit of ten guards had been doing drills under the command of Sergeant Callahan when the shimmering grey forcefield had appeared. Then, they had gotten separated in the confusion when the things had attacked. He had no idea what had happened to the others, and he tried not to think too hard about it. He was happy enough to have found two of them.

He gave a nod towards Julia, then started following his superior.

“So, Sarge, any idea what those things are?” he asked, warily glancing around for any of them.

“No idea,” the sergeant grunted. “My first thought was demons, but I quickly realized they’re nothing alike.”

That made sense. No human alive had seen a demon with their own eyes, but even their most monstrous depictions made them human-like, and beings of flesh and blood.

“We’ve been calling them Slicers,” Julia spoke for the first time, her lightly accented voice rolling the R. “Uncreative, but describes them pretty well, I think.”

“Yeah, no kidding,” he murmured, glancing at all the cuts covering his hands and forearms.

“So, what’s the plan?” he asked, changing the subject to something more productive.

Callahan’s thick eyebrows furrowed in concern.

“Me and Julia went to Wanderers United, to see if the teleporting circles there could be used to evacuate people,” he replied in a gruff voice. “The Slicers beat us to the punch. According to the people inside, the ones that had popped up close to the building immediately went inside and destroyed the circle. They told us the same thing happened at the other travel agencies.”

“Shit. If they destroyed those ones, then that means…”

He glanced at the palace. Built on an artificial hill in the middle of the city, it could be seen from almost anywhere in Estrellis. Its sweeping white towers, multi-coloured windows, and gold-coloured spires made it a sight to behold. Its favourable position, and the presence of the queen’s Royal Guard, also made it the best defended place in the city. Judging by the flashes of light he could occasionally see in the distance, the squad of powerful combat mages was still active, and hadn’t yet fallen prey to the slicers.

“Yeah. The palace is our only option,” Callahan finished.

If the teleporting circles in the travel agencies had indeed been destroyed, then the palace was likely their only escape route. Members of the United Coalition of Nations, which Morance was a part of, had an agreement that let them set up a teleporting circle in the seat of their government, which was in turn connected to the circles found in that nation’s embassies throughout the capitals of the UCN. Only a nation’s head of state, and a few trusted officials, could activate the circles, meaning escaping through the foreign embassies found within Estrellis was probably off the table. Even if the people necessary for their activation were here for whatever reason, the Slicers might have destroyed the circles as well.

“The hill is probably crawling with Slicers,” the sergeant continued. “Getting up there won’t be easy. But with the three of us, and hopefully any stragglers we pick up along the way, I believe we have a good shot at it. Now, are you with me?”

“Sir yes sir!” Sidan barked.

Julia was slower in her response.

“Got a problem, lassie?” Callahan asked with a raised eyebrow. “I won’t stop you if you sit this one out, but I would really appreciate it if you didn’t. We need all the help we can get.”

“It’s just…” she replied. “Will we really just escape through the palace? Leave the people here?”

“No. At least not unless a superior orders us to. I imagine the queen already evacuated many of the palace’s residents. But with the situation as it is, they need all hands on deck. We might not be able to do much compared to those bigshots in the Royal Guard, but if we can make it even slightly easier for them to clear a route towards the palace, then this will have been worth it. On top of that, they might know more about what is going on than we do. Understand?”

Julia nodded.

“Good. Any more questions?”

Both Sidan and Julia nodded in the negative.

“Then let’s get a move on.”

The trio warily walked toward the centre of the city, dispatching any Slicers they came across with minimal injuries. Still, as they got closer and closer to the base of the Royal Hill, Sidan couldn’t help but feel something was off.

“Hey, Sarge, isn’t this going a bit too smoothly?” he voiced his concerns.

“Hmph? Elaborate,” was the curt reply.

Julia beat him to the punch before he could answer.

“I agree. At first, they were running around everywhere. Now we only see isolated groups? And only in groups of no more than three. Surely we can’t have killed that many, no?”

“Now that you mention it…” Callahan murmured, concerned. He glanced over his shoulder, and the colour drained from his face.

“I think I found the reason. Scatter!”

Towards the left, towering over the houses, was a monstrosity that looked like an amalgam of hundreds, possibly thousands of Slicers. Through its shifting, amorphous mass, Sidan could catch glimpses of their vital ribbons, braided into a very thick looking rope.

_Well, I probably can’t slice through this one with just a sword_ , he thought as he gulped down his own fear.

The colossus seemed intent on squashing some unseen target below it, forming countless limbs that picked up and hurled bits of smashed roads and buildings. Most of its attention seemed to be focused on its opponent, but it occasionally chucked rocks in other directions. And a volley of deadly stones was flying right towards them.

Sidan didn’t wait for the order to be repeated. He ran in a random direction, seeking cover behind buildings. He didn’t glance back as he felt the heavy impacts of the boulders landing behind him. Once he felt he got far enough away, he paused to catch his breath. He couldn’t see Julia and Callahan anywhere, and just had to hope that they had made it to safety.

He glanced back at the Slicer titan, and was treated to an odd sight. The monstrosity seemed almost… frustrated, as it continued attacking its mysterious adversary with greater intensity than before. Just then, a flash of lightning coming from the ground stuck the colossus in its centre of mass, the sound of thunder following a split second later.

When he blinked away the spots in his vision, he saw that the ribbons where the lightning had struck were writhing, as if there were in pain, and struggling to hold on to their neighbours. The central rope of colourful tendrils was briefly exposed. Not wasting any time, the source of the lightning then fired a massive blade of compressed air, severing through it in one go. The colossus instantly collapsed.

Sidan watched the spectacle in awe, his previous terrors momentarily forgotten. To his knowledge, there was only one person in Estrellis capable of using elemental magic on that scale. And if he was right about that… then ironically, he was probably safer close to the fighting than out there on his own.

Running towards the scene, his hopes were quickly confirmed.

A woman was standing in the middle of the street, dressed in flowing purple robes, surrounded by all the individual Slicers that had made up the titan. And she was winning.

Her name was Solel Anwar. One of the most powerful combat mages in the world, Grandmaster of Estrellis, and descendant of the Daughter of Light herself.

Solel shared the iconic blonde hair of the Anwar family, but unlike her ancestor, wore hers in a tight bun instead of the wild, flowing curls that were depicted on countless murals and paintings. Though she approached her sixties, she wore her age with grace, remaining in top physical shape.

She stood there with her right arm raised skyward, a sphere of light blue light floating above her open palm. Projectiles made out of that same light periodically fired out of the sphere, flying almost too fast for the eye to follow. When they hit a solid object, a mass of crystal-clear ice instantly formed, trapping several Slicers at once. Though they struggled, they couldn’t seem to break free.

Sidan stood there slack jawed as Solel handled by the dozens the monsters that had given him so much trouble before. He had heard stories of the woman’s power, but to see it action was something else entirely.

As Grandmaster of Estrellis, Solel was in charge of all the magical forces in the city, and was thus technically Callahan’s boss’s boss. That said, she mostly concerned herself with the affairs of the Royal Guard. He had seen her in person only a few times before, all of them when she had performed routine inspections of her underlings in the City Guard.

From those few visits, Sidan got the impression that Solel was someone that was completely dedicated to her job, rarely allowing herself to unwind. She didn’t seem mean, exactly, but he also couldn’t imagine himself joking with her like he sometimes did with Callahan. Then again, being dedicated was something of a requirement for mages of her calibre. He had heard somewhere that the Elite Guard had to train up to six hours a day to keep their magical abilities to an acceptable standard. In comparison, the single daily hour he had to dedicate to his own magic seemed like nothing.

Amidst the chaos of the Slicers getting flash-frozen en masse, Sidan spotted something. A crack in the pavement behind Solel, a few ribbons stealthily creeping out of it.

“Behind you!” he yelled.

Solel did not get startled by his shout, and turned around. The ball of ice magic above her hand morphed into a whip of fire, which she swung at the sneaking Slicer that was now jumping towards her.

The whip sliced through it like butter, the two halves of the monster falling lifelessly to the ground on either side of Solel. This casual display of power seemed to be too much for the few remaining Slicers, and they scattered, likely looking for easier targets.

Solel gestured for Sidan to come closer. He happily obliged.

“Thanks kid,” she told him with surprising informality. “Your name?”

“Sidan, unit 10, City Guard, ma’am!” he saluted.

Solel gulped a few swigs of replenishing potion before answering.

“No need for formalities, boy. Just call me Solel.”

“Understood ma- um, Solel.”

She sighed in response.

“Were you heading up towards the palace?” she continued.

Sidan, not trusting himself to not call her “ma’am” again, simply nodded in response.

“Good. Then would you mind helping me?”

“Me? Help you?” he answered dumbly.

“Yes,” was the curt reply. “You saw how one of them snuck up on me. Normally I’d regularly use scrying to check my surroundings for any trickery, but there’s just so fucking many of the pests that I was forced to go on the offense more than I like, and I got careless. The one you spotted probably wouldn’t have killed me, but I’m getting tired and more mistakes like that will be inevitable. And before you ask, a mob of them _will_ come back to hunt me down. They’ve done so five times already. I want you to stay close to me and watch my back. You won’t have to fight, just to warn me if you see anything sneak up on me. Alright?”

Right. One of the fundamental rules of magic was that you couldn’t use multiple different abilities at the same time. Every time Solel stopped her elemental assault and used scrying magic to check her surroundings, that was a few precious moments that the Slicers could gain on her. It seemed even mages as accomplished as her couldn’t escape this limitation.

Seeing one of the most powerful people in existence so casually admit her weaknesses was strange, to say the least. Still, it made Sidan’s respect for the woman grow. Perhaps she wasn’t as unapproachable as she first appeared.

“Alright,” he answered. It wasn’t like he had any other options. Even with hordes of Slicers gunning for Solel, he was probably safer at her side than alone. And her destination was the same as his. Part of him felt like he was betraying Julia and the sergeant by leaving them behind, but he forcibly quashed his worries. If they hadn’t yet followed the mayhem to this place, then they probably wouldn’t in the near future, for better or for worse. He briefly considered asking Solel to use her scrying to locate them, but held his tongue. He knew the ability was magically demanding, and its range limited.

“Good. Then follow me, kid. And stay sharp, because I get the feeling that this is gonna get a lot worse before it gets better.”

Without further fanfare, the two of them began their march towards the palace. As focused as he was on his spotting job, Sidan still couldn’t help but overhear the mage whisper something under her breath.

“I swear, of all the days that I chose to take time off…”


	3. The Hermit and the Sword 1.2 - Breaks

“So, Solel, ma’am, any idea what these things could be? Have you ever seen anything like them?” Sidan asked.

“No. And before you, ask, no, they’re not demons,” Solel answered.

The unlikely duo continued steadily making their way towards the palace. Without the worry of sneak attacks, the Grandmaster could unleash the full might of her offensive magic, and made short work of any Slicers that came their way. The woman blasted the monsters away with a dizzyingly diverse array of elemental magic, including lightning strikes, waves of acid, blasts of tar-like darkness that entrapped anything it hit, localized tornados, and much more.

When Sidan had previously asked her why she didn’t just stick to one spell that worked the best, she answered that using too much of one kind of magic in too little time depleted her reserves more quickly than if she varied them. He hadn’t personally experienced such a phenomenon, but then again, their magical aptitudes were worlds apart.

The two of them were currently walking up the stairs leading up to the palace at a steady pace. As Sergeant Callahan had predicted, the hill was indeed crawling with Slicers, though they were no match for Solel. Still, there had been several close calls, with groups of them attempting sneak attacks, which Sidan detected at the last moment, so they did not let their guard down. In one of the downtimes when the Slicers retreated to bolster their numbers, Sidan had decided to break the silence to see if the stern mage knew anything more about the situation than he did.

“Yeah, I figured as much already. Still, any guesses? I imagine you’re one of the most knowledgeable persons around on things like these,” he continued, trying to butter her up a bit.

“Monsters are not my area of expertise,” she said, shaking her head. “But I appreciate the compliment.”

She made a pensive sound, before continuing.

“My first guess was an animated construct, like a golem or a wraith. But that doesn’t fit. To operate at a distance, they would need to carry some physical essence from their creator with them, like blood or hair. This would leave an easily traceable magical signature. But when I got my hands on a few of them, I couldn’t detect anything of that sort. You also saw how smart the pests are. Well, maybe smart is the wrong word, but they clearly aren’t mindless automatons. Animated constructs have to be given very specific instructions before being deployed, and they can only remember so many of them. You could theoretically make a set of instructions that led to behaviour this complex, but you’d reach the memory limit long before you were done implanting them all.”

“So… are you saying that these things are alive?” he asked in disbelief.

Solel didn’t answer for several long seconds.

“It’s… a strong possibility. But more likely, and far more worrying, is that whoever is behind them can just ignore all the rules of magic as we know it. See that forcefield around the city?”

He nodded mutely.

“I was having a pleasant evening with my brother at a restaurant on the edge of town when _it_ appeared,” she said, referring to the magical barrier with surprising venom. “I immediately went to investigate it, but nothing I could do made a dent in it. I couldn’t make anything pass through it, I couldn’t dispel it, and I couldn’t trace its caster. Now, forcefields this strong aren’t unheard of. They require a lot of preparation beforehand, and they’re generally not worth the trouble compared to just a simple, competently cast shielding spell, but they do exist. There’s just one big problem.”

“What is it?” he asked. “Oh, and what happened to your brother?” he added, his curiosity getting the better of him.

“He’s barricaded himself inside a shop with other people. He should be fine for now,” she answered dismissively. “Back to the main point, the problem is that it should be impossible to make one this strong _and_ this big. And I don’t mean that in the ‘gathering all the energy necessary for this is impossible’ way, I mean that in the ‘even if you had all the energy needed you still couldn’t do it’ way. I won’t bore you with the details, but in short, we’ve mathematically proven that there’s an upper limit on the energy you can put into a single spell, no matter how powerful the caster is. Even if you could make a forcefield this big, which should also be impossible, then it would have to be so weak that a particularly fat fly could shatter it by bumping into it. There’s also the colour. Every forcefield I’ve ever seen was blue, not grey. I don’t know what it means, but it can’t be good.”

“Could it have been the work of multiple mages? Maybe each of them only created one section of it?”

“Unlikely.”

Solel looked like she was about to launch into another lengthy, yet admittedly educational explanation, but held her tongue due to the arrival of a wave of Slicers.

As Solel resumed her carnage, Sidan couldn’t help but replay that conversation in his head. He tried not to let it distract him too much, lest a Slicer slip past his eyes, but Solel’s speculation was… worrying, to say the least. What could they even do against an enemy that seemed to so casually ignore the foundations on which the universe worked? He recalled how outnumbered they were, how empty of human life the streets had seemed. Had the resistance been crushed so completely already?

And what did they even want with Estrellis anyway? To take control of Morance? It was true that his kingdom was an economic and cultural powerhouse on the international stage, but it wasn’t number one in those areas by any means. Did this have something to do with the Daughter of Light? The mausoleum containing Luciel’s body was in this city, and there were several rumours that artifacts of great power were hidden in there. But hundreds of years of searching had found nothing of particular interest inside it. Besides, it was open to the public. If there was truth to the rumours, surely there were more discreet ways to recover those hypothetical artifacts than to invade one of the most famous cities in the world in such a dramatic manner.

Unless the spectacle of it was the point, and that this was all done to give the rest of the world a sneak peak of what would follow.

Despite his dark thoughts, Sidan continued covering Solel adequately, and the two finally reached the top of the hill, nearly an hour and a half after the attack had started. It seemed that the Royal Guard had at some point barricaded themselves inside the palace. Thousands of Slicers were crawling in the courtyard, climbing over each other in an attempt to force the doors open. A few titans were there as well, repeatedly hitting the walls with pseudo fists in an attempt to break them. Still, for now, the defences seemed to be holding.

_Probably reinforced with magic_ , he thought.

“Get behind me,” Solel whispered, “and don’t move.”

Sidan did as she asked, and Solel formed a glowing purple orb in her hand, which slowly grew as she fed power into it. Sidan had no idea what it did, but given how concentrated on her task Solel seemed to be, it would probably be more potent than the other spells she’d shown him so far.

By the time the Slicers noticed they had company, it was too late for them. Solel threw the orb, now the size of a watermelon, and immediately created a translucent blue forcefield surrounding the both of them. The sphere landed in the midst of the Slicers, and detonated. An intense purple light filled his view, and every slicer that was in the courtyard was suddenly launched away from the palace, flying over the edge of the hill. A number of them were sent on a course directly towards them, but the forcefield deflected them without any trouble. The surrounding architecture was somehow left completely intact.

She quickly finished off the few that had managed to grab on to something, then casually made her way towards the doors.

_On the bright side, if I get out of this alive, I’ll have a hell of a story to tell at the bar,_ Sidan thought to himself.

“It’s me! Open up!” Solel yelled as she knocked on the door.

Nothing happened for several seconds. Then, the massive wooden doors of the palace opened just enough for a person to pass. A middle-aged bald man wearing purple robes similar to Solel’s cautiously stuck his head out.

“Took care of your little infestation. Free of charge, just this time,” Solel said with a smirk.

“Hah!” the newcomer jovially answered. “And to think the others were worried about you. It’s gonna take more than that to put you down, ya crazy wench!”

“Before you kiss my ass any further, I want to point out that I can’t take all the credit. Archibald, meet Sidan,” she said as she gestured towards the latter. “He warned me of a sneak attack while I was still down there, and I took him with me as a spotter. I might not have made it there as quickly or in one piece if it wasn’t for him.”

Sidan had been left speechless by the totally informal greeting, and took a second to respond.

“Err, Sidan, unit 10, City Guard, sir! Pleasure to meet you, sir!” he saluted.

“Archibald Woods, Royal Guard!” the mage returned the salute with delight in his voice.

“Not that this hasn’t been pleasant, but shouldn’t we move on to more pressing matters?” Solel asked dryly.

Archibald’s jovial mood instantly disappeared, replaced with cold professionalism.

“Right. Come inside.”

Sidan and Solel followed him inside the palace’s entrance hall. Archibald waved his hand, and the doors closed on their own. He then placed his hand on the door, and magical diagrams that Sidan hadn’t realized were there began to light up.

“None of the monsters were able to breach the palace,” Archibald began his report. “At first, we tried repelling them by going on the offense, but eventually we got overwhelmed and barricaded ourselves inside. You’ll be pleased to learn that the defences are still holding up well, and likely will for some time.”

“They better…” Solel grumbled. “Replacing those outdated diagrams cost us a small fortune. I had to pull in a lot of favours to get them approved on the budget…”

Archibald ignored his superior’s complaining and continued, “Ronan captured one of the monsters, and is trying to figure out what it is. He’s not having much luck there, but he still found several interesting things that he’ll share with you later.”

Solel furrowed her eyebrows at that line.

“In the meantime,” Archibald continued, “the queen has evacuated everyone that was in or around the palace at the time of the attack. They’ve been sent to various embassies. Sheand the rest of the Royal Guard are the only people remaining here. They’re currently in the throne room.”

“The queen is still here?” Solel asked.

“Yes. We tried to convince her to go, but she was having none of it. We’re not sure what to do.”

Sidan followed the two powerful mages as they walked towards the throne room, feeling awkward and useless. Acting as Solel’s spotter had made him feel somewhat important, even if his overall contribution was small. Now that he was here, he was torn between his desire for safety, and the feeling that he would be more useful out there. He also felt a bit betrayed that the Royal Guard had apparently no intention of attempting to evacuate the people still stuck below the hill. The more rational part of his mind told him that as powerful as they were, they couldn’t save the whole city by themselves.

The trio entered the throne room. Right in the middle of the spacious hall was an elaborate diagram etched right into the marble floor. At the opposite end of the entrance was an elaborate wooden throne with black and golden accents. Fourteen people in purple robes were standing guard, and looked on with relief as Solel showed herself. Except for one, probably the aforementioned Ronan, who was casually holding a Slicer in his bare hands, and poking it in various places. The young mage was so absorbed in whatever he was doing that he failed to notice their arrival.

The Slicer was desperately contorting its body in all directions, trying to escape, but Ronan seemed to have a firm grip on its central three ribbons. Sidan almost felt bad for the poor thing. Almost.

Seemingly appearing out of nowhere, a girl ran towards Solel and hug-tackled her.

“I’m so glad you’re okay!” she said with a voice that seemed to be on the verge of breaking into tears.

Sidan then realized with a shock that this “girl” was Estrel the Second, Queen of Morance. With her very pale skin and almost pitch-black hair, she stood out greatly from the average Morench citizen. Though two years his senior, her short height and youthful face made her seem even younger than she really was. Her magnificent blue dress and elegant over-the-shoulder braid seemed like attempts to compensate for this, but Sidan wasn’t sure how well it was working.

Still, despite her appearance, the queen was a wise, compassionate, and sometimes shrewd ruler, and Morance had prospered greatly in the 7 years since she had taken the throne.

“I’m glad you’re okay too, Your Majesty,” Solel said, sounding genuinely happy. After a second, she broke the hug with some apparent reluctance. “But this is no time for pleasantries. Why haven’t you evacuated yet?”

“What do you mean, why haven’t I evacuated? I can’t just leave my people here! We were at an impasse before, but now that you’re here, surely we can create an evacuation rou-”

“No,” Solel interrupted her firmly. “There’s just too many of them. It’s not gonna work.”

“And what, just leave them here to die?” the queen replied with a hint of anger. “What kind of ruler would I be to just abandon my people at the first sign of trouble? You lot are some of the most accomplished mages in the world! Surely you can think of a way to do this.”

“And as one of the most accomplished mages in the world, I am telling you that we cannot do what you ask right now,” Solel shot back, raising her voice. “First sign of trouble? We are long past that. This enemy has access to powers that we cannot begin to comprehend! On top of that, they came prepared. The very first thing they did after popping up was cutting off our escape routes. Part of being an effective ruler is knowing when to make a hard decision. The best thing you can do right now is escape to safety, and organize a response once we have a better idea of what’s going on. They _want_ us to remain here! Do not play into their own game.”

The young queen stood there, motionless, as conflicting emotions warred across her face.

“Please,” Solel added, softer this time.

Finally, Estrel sighed, dejected, and composed herself.

“Yes, you are right. I was being stupid,” she admitted in a tired tone. “Everyone, get ready! We will be teleporting to New Jerdel in a few minutes.”

Archibald gave a grateful nod to Solel, then took charge by some unspoken signal between the two.

“You heard Her Majesty!” he announced. “Ronan, dispose of that thing. I don’t think you’ll get anything more out of it.”

“Can’t I take it with me?” Ronan asked. “It could be useful in the future.”

“Absolutely not,” Solel answered in a no-nonsense tone. “We have no idea what these things are truly capable of. For all we know, it could transform into something more dangerous once out of the forcefield. Frankly, I’m disappointed you even brought it here in the first place. You too, Archibald. I thought you had enough common sense to disapprove of this. I’ll have talks with both of you later.”

The two men cringed in shame. Ronan wasted no time in getting rid of his new toy. His hands glowed green, and the Slicer slowly crumbled to dust, thrashing even more intensely than before. Sidan found the whole thing oddly disturbing, and looked away.

The queen had just finished gulping down a magic replenishing potion when she noticed Sidan’s presence.

“Forgive me, I do not think I caught your name,” she said. “You are part of the City Guard, correct?”

“Yes, Your Majesty! Sidan, Unit 10, City Guard. I am humbled to be in your presence, Your Majesty”, he kneeled.

Oddly enough, he felt more confident introducing himself to her than he had with Solel and Archibald. Her unthreatening appearance and demeanour probably didn’t hurt.

Solel lightly slapped in on the side of his head, startling him.

“Stop this detestable habit, boy,” she grumbled as he hurriedly got back to his feet. “I picked him up along the way. I’ll tell you the details later,” she told the queen.

Queen Estrel raised an amused eyebrow at this, making Sidan embarrassed at his own behavior.

She then stood in front of the circle, and placed a hand over her heart. The diagram on the floor began faintly glowing with a white light, gaining in intensity over time. Sidan knew from experience that teleporting circles would take around five minutes of charging to become operational, so all they could do for now was wait for the queen to finish the job.

The only sound in the room came from a quiet conversation between Solel and Ronan, presumably about what the latter had learned from the captive Slicer. About two minutes in, Estrel, who had been staring pensively at nothing in particular, interrupted them.

“Now that I think about it,” she mumbled, “there may be something outside the city that can help us. It might sound like a longshot, but-”

Confusion, then terror washed over her face.

“SHIELD!” she screamed.

The purple clad mage closest to her wasted no time, hastily forming a thick blue bubble around her and the diagram. An instant later, _something_ collided with it, spreading cracks at the point of impact and shaking the entire room, making the queen fall on her butt.

The invisible assailant continued its assault, fissures now rapidly spreading over the entire forcefield. Soon after, it shattered. The queen scrambled backwards in a panic, her wide eyes staring at the unseen threat. However, it seemed she was not its target.

Deep gouges appeared in the floor, cutting straight through the diagram and rendering the delicate apparatus completely unusable. All the energy that had been poured into it escaped into the air as wisps of white smoke that soon dissipated into nothingness.

Just like that, their only escape route had been cut off.

Solel was the first to recover from the collective stupor of the room. She leaped over the queen’s prone form, her fist glowing purple. She punched above the diagram, and it connected, producing a loud gong-like noise, and launching the invisible attacker across the room.

It crashed into the throne, shattering it beyond repair.

“Show yourself, fiend!” she demanded, fury in her voice.

She stomped her foot, and a blue wave spread through the room, breaking whatever enchantment kept the thing invisible.

Their opponent was definitely a Slicer, though clearly a different variety from the ones they had seen so far. Bigger than an individual one and smaller than a titan, it was about as large as a horse-pulled carriage. Its ribbons, a darker shade of grey than the other Slicers’, were also far less densely packed, giving it an ethereal, ghostly appearance. Worryingly, through its ever-shifting body, Sidan could not spot the trio of colourful tendrils that all the others had. It seemed this one had no weak spot that would allow them to easily take it out. And, even more worrying, it appeared to be able to use magic.

The thing _chuckled_ , its voice a grating, metallic sound that made his skin crawl. Seemingly unhurt by Solel’s attack, it began floating into the air, shaping its body into a spinning sphere. It suddenly glowed purple, and flew towards Solel with dizzying speed. Instead of trying to block it, she snapped her fingers, and duplicated at a rapid rate, with dozens of identical copies of herself running away in all directions. The one the Slicer slammed into was apparently not the original, and the illusory copy was snuffed out of existence. Not deterred in the slightest, it extended its tendrils throughout the room, destroying even more of the copies.

“Squad A and B, with me!” all the Solels barked in unison. “Squad C, protect the queen!”

Archibald picked up the queen and carried her over his shoulder, then ran out of the room, followed by four other royal guards. Sidan followed them, eager to get far, far away from whatever that monster was. The last glimpse he got of the scene behind him was of the Royal Guard preparing a variety of spells, and the Slicer growing its own fireball, far faster and larger than even Solel had been able to.

He did not look back as a loud explosion behind him shook the hallway, a painfully hot wave of heat following a second later. He could only hope that the people with him knew what they were doing, and that they could get him out of this hell.


	4. The Hermit and the Sword 1.3 - Null

They had failed, and it was all her fault.

Estrel the Second, queen of Morance, was lost in her own world as she kept replaying the events that had led up to this disaster.

_If only I hadn’t suggested to Solel to take a day off. If only I hadn’t waited for so long to evacuate. If only I could have spotted that_ thing _sooner, before she destroyed the portal._

But it was too late. She had done none of those things. And now her kingdom would fall into further chaos, its queen trapped in a warzone, her fate uncertain.

She knew where Archibald and the others were taking her — the hidden teleporter in the kitchens. It wouldn’t matter. They’d get there soon enough, but charging the diagram would take a while. And long before it was done, _she_ would be there.

Estrel wasn’t just being defeatist for the sake of it. She had a very good reason for it: a magical ability she had acquired at the age of ten, which she had titled the Glance. Obtaining it had been… painful, and she was never able to teach it to someone else, no matter how hard both she and her prospective student tried, but its utility was invaluable.

Name, age, gender, species, and even a rough summary of emotional state was fed into her mind as she Glanced at any being capable of self-awareness. It had been a large reason for the success she had in international politics over the past few years, and only her Royal Guard and Nightwatchers knew about it. After using it for so long, she had lost the ability to turn it off, putting a drain on her already lower than average natural magical recovery speed. As a silver lining, it could now be used on, and warn her of, people she didn’t know were there. Which was how she had spotted that monster while she was still invisible.

As she had gazed unfocused in the distance, she had suddenly received a very odd set of information. Age: around 40. It was apparently a s _he_. Her name was a screeching cacophony of metallic sounds that had almost made Estrel’s ears hurt, even if it was all in her mind. Emotions that were odd enough that she couldn’t properly interpret them without further observations.

Strangest of all was the species. It was nothing.

But not the same nothing she got when she looked at inanimate objects, or unthinking living beings. It was as if something had been there before, but disappeared, rather than never having been there at all.

She had gotten a similar result when Glancing at the smaller monster that Ronan had captured at his request, but for all of its attributes this time. As if its name, emotions, and everything that would make it something more than just an elaborate lump of matter were simply… ripped away from it.

But this oddity was not why she was so certain of her failure. No, that was due to the other side of her Glance, one that was far more situational. Namely, a breakdown of magical proficiency in different branches of magic, and an estimate of overall magical power.

Glances did not give her direct words and numbers. Rather they were more akin to concepts, being fed directly into her mind. She had gotten rather good over the years at interpreting age down to around five years, but something as subjective as magical power was a lot more open and inexact.

Still, she could tell that the monster’s power easily dwarfed that of Solel’s and the Royal Guard’s all put together. They would be crushed.

The abomination was no dumb brute either. At a Glance, she was a master in most kinds of offensive magic that Estrel knew about, and very skilled in many other branches. One of which was tracking magic.

_We can’t beat her. We can’t outrun her. Whatever it is she wants with Estrellis, we can’t stop her from getting it._

_It’s hopeless._

Was it?

There had been times before when life had overwhelmed her, when she felt she couldn’t find her way out of a terrible situation. When her parents had died. When she had been crowned queen, after her uncle had stepped down as acting regent. When shortly after, King Horace of the Korelon Kingdom had subtly hinted at war because she had inadvertently offended during their first meeting. Though Estrel liked to project an aura of composed confidence to her citizens, she was anything but.

But those temporary lows weren’t the end of the story. They were just that, temporary, and she had come out stronger every time. She had grieved her parents, and moved on with the help of Solel. Her royal duties had been overwhelming at first, but she had quickly grown into the job. And that blowhard Horace had quickly backed down when she had shown him that she would not let just anyone walk over her without resistance.

Could she live with herself if the situation further deteriorated because of her inaction? No. She had to try _something_.

_This is different though,_ a small, traitorous part of herself whispered. _All those problems you had were mundane, things that were within the realm of expectations. This? This is beyond our comprehension. Solel told you herself._

_And Solel also told me that now was the time for me to be a good ruler, and to make difficult decisions, so kindly shut up while I think,_ she shot back, berating herself.

As she returned to reality, she took stock of her situation. She was currently being carried by Archibald, who was running through the hallways of the palace with ease, despite her added weight. Five others were accompanying them, keeping up with him at a steady pace.

_Wait, five?_

Ah, right. The city guard, Sidan. She had almost forgotten about him.

She had, of course, already known his name before she’d asked for it. But she hadn’t seen any harm in acknowledging his presence, as it would make any potential future interaction with him much less awkward.

The boy was only a few years younger than her, though with his well-built physique he looked much older. She could catch glimpses of his closely cut, fiery red hair through his bloodstained helmet, as well as beginnings of a beard. He was scared out of his wits, but did an admirable job of hiding it, keeping his gaze unflinchingly ahead. As expected of his profession, his proficiency in internal magic was much greater than that of the average person’s, but still not all that much in the grand scheme of things.

In other words, he was a wholly unremarkable city guard, nothing about him making him stand out from the dozens she Glanced at whenever she travelled through the streets of Estrellis. And yet, looking him over, she felt the beginnings of a plan form in her mind. It was crazy, rushed, and not at all fair to the poor, out-of-his-depth boy, but it just might work.

“Stop. Get into that room,” she spoke, pointing to the right.

“Your Majesty,” Archibald said, looking concerned, “the secret teleporter is not-”

“I know!” she interrupted him. “But the others are not going to win this. Our guest will catch up to us before we can escape. We need a new plan.”

Archibald looked at the other royal guards, unsure.

“That’s an order!” Estrel barked.

That did the trick.

The group filed into the small conference room, and Archibald set her down. She wasted no time, giving out her orders.

“Bridget,” she told the only other woman in the group, “you’re on lookout. The rest of you, start setting up advanced defenses. Focus _all_ your energy on that. Once that monster gets here, I want you to slow her down as much as you can. Understood?”

The purple clad mages answered with a quick nod, and went to work, Bridget’s eyes glowing yellow while the others began drawing diagrams at the base of the walls.

_Now comes the hard part,_ she internally grimaced, thinking of how to best phrase the next bit.

Sidan stood awkwardly in the middle of the room, his attention rapidly switching between the door and the royal guards. At a Glance, he was agitated. His earlier controlled panic had abated, now replaced with frustration. Did he want to help, but couldn’t see a way how? The emotional aspect of her Glances was not that precise, but over the years she had gotten good at reading people on her own merits. If her assessment was accurate, he might accept his mission with less reluctance than she’d originally anticipated.

“Sidan,” she called out to him, in a move that surprised everyone present.

The city guard jumped, his attention now fully on her.

“Yes, Your Majesty?” he asked, hesitantly.

“We don’t have much time. I need you to listen to me very carefully, and remember everything I say. Can you do that for me?”

“Yes,” he replied, standing straighter, his confusion gradually giving way to determination.

“Good. When I tell you too, you will run out of this room to the right, and take the first left turn you see, then the second turn on your right. Keep going straight until you reach the kitchens.”

She paused briefly, making sure he had remembered all that.

“Once there, open and close the door of the first oven on your left three times in a row, say loudly and clearly ‘Didn’t see you there, old friend’, and run into the back wall. If you do that right, you should pass straight through it, and arrive in a secret room. Did you get all that?”

After a few seconds, Sidan nodded.

Part of her wanted to scream at him for wasting so much time. The more rational part told her that it was only natural he’d be slower than her to recall information she’d known for years.

“Inside that room, there is a teleporter, and a chest containing white potions,” she continued, expertly hiding her frustration. “Drink one of the potions, and stand in the circle. It will charge up on its own, and when done, it will activate automatically. You’ll arrive at a bunker on the border of Valronia Forest. Once there, break the diagram, and set out to Dordox, the nearest town. There will be a map. When you get to Dordox, you need to tell them what happened, and form a search team to take with you into Valronia Forest. We have good reason to believe that an artifact of great power has been hidden in there, one that might have the power to repel this threat.”

“What kind of artifact?” he asked, not skipping a beat.

In any other circumstance, she might have paused a bit, for dramatic effect. She didn’t have such luxuries this time, and answered immediately.

“It’s the Daughter of Light’s sword.”

Sidan's focused expression broke, his eyes going wide. Even her royal guards paused in their work. They hadn’t been aware of this particular tidbit.

Luciel Anwar’s peculiar sword had been the subject of much academic debate over the centuries. Where she had obtained it, who or what had made it, and if it even had a name were all big questions, whose answers she had kept all the way into the grave.

What had happened to it was another. She had definitely parted with it at some point before the parade thrown in her honor in Estrellis, following her return from the Underworld, but when exactly was a mystery. Until recently.

The Nightwatchers were the _other_ team of powerful mages under her command, though these ones were far less flashy than the Royal Guard, focusing not on combat and protection, but on espionage, and intelligence gathering. Shortly after taking power, she had asked three of them to look into the whereabouts of the sword, as a just in case. A year ago, they had delivered.

Uncovering a trove of hitherto unknown primary sources, they had been able to reconstruct the rough path the Demonbane had taken on her return home, the last time she had definitely been seen with the sword, and the first time she had definitely been seen without it. Many of the sources were incomplete, and the timeline sometimes included hard to explain holes where Luciel had seemingly travelled great distances in very little time, long before the invention of teleporting circles. Still, all of this left Valronia Forest as the most likely candidate for where she had parted with it by a good margin.

It wasn’t overwhelming evidence, but it made sense. Valronia was dense, dark, and filled with monsters. An ideal place to hide something from prying eyes. Its unusually high monster density was another point in its favor. Though places as infested as this one were definitely not unheard of, and could often be explained through completely natural phenomena, the main _un_ natural reason for their existence was the presence of a powerful magical object.

Granted, all the search parties she had sent there since had turned up nothing, but considering the size of the forest, that wasn’t too unexpected, and not necessarily a sign that she was barking up the wrong tree. It had to be there. For now, she couldn’t afford to consider the possibility that it wasn’t.

As for why the bunker had been built in this area, that was a simple coincidence. It had been just the right combination of isolated enough to serve as a hiding spot, far enough from the capital to escape potential dangers like this one, and close enough to civilization to ask for help if needed.

“Yes, I know that it sounds crazy. But we have good evidence to believe that it is there, or at least around this area. I know it is no easy task, but I believe that you can do it. You have to try. Harnessing the power of the Daughter might be our best shot at winning this,” she said, striking a careful balance between an order and a plea.

She conveniently left out the part where she had not found anything even with a one-year head start on him, and that said evidence was largely circumstantial. If this was going to work, Sidan could not doubt her.

“Um, how will I even convince people to join me in this search?” the young guard asked hesitantly. “No offense, your majesty, but your story isn’t the most believable thing in the world…”

Oops. She hadn’t thought of that. Normally, she prepared letters bearing her seal as proof of her involvement for these types of missions, but that wasn’t an option right now.

“Give him your money,” she ordered the royal guards.

They complied, handing Sidan coin-filled pouches they had been keeping attached to their belts. There were no external complaints, though a few of them were decidedly _not_ happy on the inside.

_Suck it up, you big babies,_ she thought. _With the way things are going, money might soon become meaningless._

Sidan, for his part, was incredulous as he quickly stuffed the pouches inside his own pockets, though she was happy to see greed was not one of his primary emotions right now.

“If your words are not enough to convince them, then maybe gold will,” she said, Glancing at Bridget, who did not appear too alarmed at the moment. “Any last questions?”

“Why me? Why not, one of… them?” he asked in a small voice, awkwardly gesturing at the purple clad mages, still hard at work.

That was indeed a good question. Sidan was definitely _not_ equipped to deal with this kind of situation. Well, none of them were, but of those present, him especially. He didn’t have the political clout that a Royal Guard might. He likely wouldn’t be able to negotiate as well as them. And it would probably take him longer to find the sword, if it was there at all. No, the reason she had chosen him had nothing to do with his abilities or competence.

He was simply the only one that had a shot at escaping the city in the first place.

“You heard what Solel said. This enemy came prepared. They knew where to strike to hurt us the most. My royal guards aren’t exactly celebrities, but their identities aren’t a secret either. If our guest sees that one of them isn’t there to perform their duty, she’ll know that they’re planning something, and she’ll track them down before the teleporter activates. But you, a city guard among hundreds? You might slip beneath her notice. There’s a chance she didn’t even notice you back there. Please. You have to do it. It’s our only hope.”

She said the last part more authoritatively than before, hoping to spur him into action.

Complex emotions warred within Sidan, ones she might need a minute to fully interpret. Determination, dread, thoughtfulness, bewilderment, and even a hint of resentment. Was that last one directed towards her?

She hated that she had to do this to him. That she had to put such a big weight on his shoulders, all because of her earlier incompetence. But this was the only way. Her people sang praises of her big heart and boundless generosity, but she was at her core a pragmatist. She would do anything within her power to protect her kingdom.

“The way is clear,” Bridget spoke, breaking the tense second of silence that had ensued. “It’s now or never.”

“Go!” Estrel ordered, leaving no room for interpretation.

He ran.

* * *

“Your Majesty, I don’t know how long we can keep this going…” Archibald said through grit teeth, hands held out in front of him.

_Damn it. We need more time!_

A minute after Sidan had left, the abomination had arrived in front of their doorway. A minute after that, and the defences that had been erected by world class mages were already seconds away from shattering. The diagrams they had hastily drawn on the floor, reinforcing the walls and placing a thick forcefield in the doorway, were dangerously close to running out of energy. The royal guards themselves weren’t faring much better, sweating and trembling as they did whatever they could to delay the inevitable collapse.

Insultingly, the monster hadn’t even used magic to achieve this, but just the absurd strength of her ribbons, striking and slicing at any weak spots, and squeezing any part that she could get a grip on.

Assuming Sidan had reached the secret room by now, then he would certainly still be waiting for the circle to finish charging up. Estrel had to find another way to delay.

She could try to keep the defence going as long as possible, buying a few seconds but further straining her bodyguards. Or she could stop it now, letting them recover and potentially buying a few more seconds in the future. She decided on the latter.

“Stop,” she said, really hoping that the writhing mass of tendrils could understand her language. She _had_ chuckled earlier, and her mastery of magic suggested she was capable of complex thoughts. “Cease this attack, and we will negotiate.”

The monster stopped, hovering in the air and gently swaying up and down.

“So you can understand me,” Estrel continued, relieved. “Can you talk?”

“Yes, I can,” the thing answered, her voice an unpleasant mix between normal talking and the sounds of metal scraping against metal. From the looks of it, she didn’t speak with magic, but by literally rubbing her metallic tendrils against each other to produce sounds.

“If you do want to negotiate,” she continued, dragging out the words and making all those present shudder at the unpleasant screech, “then I suggest you tell your lackeys to drop their defence. It won’t make much of a difference to me, but it will save them some pain.”

Estrel had trouble interpreting the creature’s tone through her inhuman voice, but she could detect hints of amusement. Glancing wasn’t much help. She could definitely detect _something_ , emotions-wise, but it wasn’t anything she had felt before. Was the abomination’s biology so alien that her emotions worked completely differently from a human’s? The emotions of Drakes, the other intelligent species living on this planet, always did feel a bit off to her in ways she couldn’t explain, so maybe that was it.

“I will, but only if you order your soldiers to stop their attack on my people. Or, if you can’t do that right now, then give me your word that you will as soon as possible.”

“Done,” the abomination replied after a second.

Estrel glanced at Bridget, the most skilled person here with tracking and perception magic.

“It, er, she just used a bit of magic there, Your Majesty,” the mage said through heavy breaths, understanding Estrel’s silent query. “Not any kind I’ve seen before, but it feels similar to what Dollmakers use to program their golems. I think she’s telling the truth.”

Well, that was as much confirmation as she was going to get for now. She ordered her bodyguards to dispel their defences, which they did with a mix of relief and apprehension. The monster squeezed through the doorway, returning to her full size after. This close to Estrel, and in the confines of the small room, she really did look huge. With the complete lack of anything resembling facial features, the young queen didn’t know where to look. She settled on staring at the centre of mass.

“Do you have a name?” she asked, harshly. If she couldn’t put a face to the monster that had made her kingdom fall overnight, she’d take the next best thing.

“I do,” she replied. “But it would be very hard for your kind to pronounce. Instead, you may call me… Null.”

“Null, huh? Is that supposed to be an abbreviation of your real name, or did you pick it to satisfy some childhood fantasy? That is, if you even had something that can be called a childhood. In any case, I guess ‘Null’ has a better ring to it than ‘murderer’, or ‘abomination’.”

Despite what one might assume, Estrel’s petty insults were calculated. She was fairly sure at this point that this ‘Null’ did not intend to kill her. She’d had plenty of opportunities to do so already, and seemed more content with smugly asserting her superiority over them instead. If Estrel gave her ammunition like this, she might keep talking, buying Sidan precious moments. She’d also project an image that was more emotional and incompetent than she really was. Being underestimated by one’s enemies was not always a good thing, but in this case, she felt it was valuable.

That wasn’t to say she had done this completely pragmatically. A small part of her had enjoyed letting her inner child speak her thoughts aloud.

Her guess was proven correct, as despite Archibald’s horrified expression, Null began chuckling to herself.

“My, my…” she drawled, after having concluded her ear-splitting laugh. “You are much feistier than I expected. But I believe you are mistaken in your assumptions.”

Estrel was struck at just how _normal_ Null sounded, not counting the clearly inhuman voice. If she closed her eyes, she could almost imagine that the floating collection of metallic razor strips in front of her was just a normal human or drakish mage using magic to alter their voice.

What was she? Was she some kind of elaborate golem, or a living being, albeit one with a very strange biology? If the latter, why was the name of her species blanked out? And what was the relationship between her and her soldiers? Unlike Null, they had acted more like animals than people. Why were they so similar to her, yet so different?

“Come with me,” Null ordered.

Estrel remained in place, testing how far she could push back.

“Now,” Null ordered, dropping whatever little amusement had been present in her voice.

Not very far, apparently.

The queen and her guards followed the living shredder back to the throne room. Estrel dreaded what she would find there. Her relationship with most of her bodyguards was purely professional, but she had gotten quite close to a few of them over the years, notably Archibald, Stephanie, and of course, Solel. The latter two had remained behind in the throne room when Null had made her entrance. She just had to hope that Null had decided to extend her mercy to them.

She breathed a sigh of relief as the throne room came into view. All of squad A and B were covered in burn marks, cuts, bruises, and various injuries, but alive. Most were slumped against walls or lying on the floor, only Ronan still having the strength to stand up. As they noticed their arrival, the ones that were still conscious felt a mix of anger and relief. A few flinched.

All of them were accounted for, except one.

“Your subordinates, unharmed,” Null declared, making sweeping gestures with her ribbons. “Well, not permanently anyway. But I do not wish-”

“What did you do to her?” Estrel cut her off, unable to hide her distress.

Floating above the ruins of her throne, a grey, octahedron shaped crystal lazily rotated. Through its transparent surface, she got glimpses of Solel’s unmoving form, her eyes closed as if she was sleeping.

She could not get any Glances of her, which meant either the crystal somehow blocked her unique ability, or…

“She is fine,” Null replied, partially quelling her worries. “I felt that this one was a bit too much trouble to keep around, so I put her in… time-out, you could say. But I can release her at any time. If you cooperate with me, I may even do so, as a reward. Like I was about to say before you so rudely interrupted me, I do not wish to be a tyrant. Isn’t there a saying from you humans? Something about attracting more flies with honey than vinegar? If we work together, I believe that you will find…”

Estrel barely listened to Null’s ramblings, her worries about Solel giving way to anger.

“Shut up!” she finally snapped. “Are you even listening to yourself? What of all the people down there that your soldiers slaughtered? Do they not count? You think I’ll just bend over because you did the bare minimum by not murdering my employees and friends before my eyes? Did you even tell the truth when you said you’d stop your little mind-controlled freaks? Or was that another lie, tyrant?”

The accusations no longer felt so petty this time, and Null definitely wasn’t chuckling, her constant, hypnotic motions stopping completely. For a few seconds, there was complete silence. The royal guards that were still well enough to fight were tense, no doubt ready to spring into action at the first sight of trouble.

When Null finally said something, she seemed almost hesitant, taking more care to choose her words.

“That… is only one of the unfortunate realities of war. I had to crush the resistance completely, to send a message. You will also note that they did not target the people that stayed inside. This was the most efficient way to do this. It will save lives in the long run.”

Maybe Estrel was just imagining it, but Null seemed a bit shaken, her accusations having left a mark. Good. She could keep going on the attack, and try to unravel the mystery that was Null. Winning a battle of words against a being that didn’t have a face, a voice that felt like it should belong to a living being, and couldn’t be Glanced at was hard, but not impossible.

“So, this _is_ war, then,” Estrel sneered. “Let’s just drop the _pleasantries_ then, shall we, and get straight to the point. Why are you here? What do you want? Do you want to overthrow me and rule in my stead? I’m sure my people will just trip over each other in their rush to accept you as their new queen.”

Null said nothing for a few seconds. Then she chuckled.

_Damn it,_ Estrel though, _this was supposed to destabilize her further, not bring her back smug side again!_

“You are very foolish to think that I will stop at Estrellis and Morance. No, your fair city is only the first of many that will receive similar treatments. I just decided to pick it first for two reasons,” Null said, letting her last statement hang, as if she expected a follow-up question.

When nobody said anything, she continued.

“The first? Estrellis is not the most powerful city in the world, but it is one of the most famous, and culturally significant. Seeing the resting place of your little Daughter of Light be so effortlessly invaded is sure to make waves. Even Drakes respect her more than most of _their_ own heroes. Many will have their resolve shaken before the fight even comes to them. Those that keep it? Their fall will only be all the harder.”

“And what is your end goal to all this?” Estrel asked, trying to regain control of the conversation. “To rule the entire world?”

“Close, but not quite. _I_ won’t be the one ruling. My master will. All I’m doing right now, is preparing this planet for his rightful return. For now, that is all you need to know.”

Estrel’s mind raced, trying to understand the implications of this. Null was doing this for someone else? Why couldn’t he just come here himself and do the job? What was so “rightful” about his “return” anyway, and why did Null follow his orders at all? She had said “planet”. Did that mean that her master wasn’t on Earth somehow? There was just too much she didn’t know. She considered asking a question, to see if she could learn anything more, but Null beat her to the punch.

“The second reason? Well, I think you already know that one,” Null said, chuckling to herself.

“I have no idea what you mean,” Estrel lied, hoping her guess was wrong.

“Do I really need to say it?” Null asked, waiting for a response. None came.

“Fine. The sword. I need it, and you know where it is. If you tell me, I might even consider giving you a treat,” she said, waving at Solel’s unmoving form.

Oh no. This was bad. Really bad.

The last time the sword had been used, it had soundly repelled what had arguably been the greatest threat to civilization on record. If a new threat of similar magnitude _used_ it, instead of fighting against it, then…

_Forgive me, Solel. But this is more important than you._

“You’re mistaken,” Estrel replied, doing her best to not let her distress seep through. “Nobody knows what happened to the sword. It’s one of the greatest unsolved mysteries in the field of history, and I don’t expect that anyone will resolve it in the near future.”

“I don’t believe you,” Null shot back. “But, finding the sword remains a secondary objective, and we have all the time in the world. We will come back to this later. For now, I’m letting you go. You can go announce to your people your surrender. Your little lapdogs can go inspect my forcefield, if they wish. I doubt they’ll figure out anything,” she chuckled, waving at the assembled mages in various states of disarray.

Null suddenly stopped her movement once more, and Estrel could Glance a sudden shift in her emotions, even if she couldn’t tell what exactly they were. Still, it didn’t take magic to deduce what had happened.

_Shit. She noticed._

“Strange,” Null said, dangerously slowly. “Aren’t we missing someone? I distinctly remember a fellow wearing banged up, bloody armour. Mind telling me what happened to him?”

Estrel considered outright denying that Sidan had ever been here. Instead, she went with a modified version of the truth.

“He… ran away. He is but a humble city guard who happened to find his way here due to a lucky encounter with Solel. He lost his nerves, and fled.”

“A coward, then?” Null asked.

“I find it hard to blame him,” Estrel replied, shaking her head in the negative. “He was _not_ trained to handle events of this scale. Besides, he wouldn’t have made much of a difference against you.”

“… I’ll be the judge of that,” Null said, her entire body glowing with the familiar yellow of tracking magic.

Estrel opened her mouth, preparing the order for all those present to slow down Null as much as they could.

“Don’t say anything stupid,” the monstrosity interrupted her. “Or I _will_ kill them.”

_Damn it. Damn her._

“Come with me,” Null ordered, roughly hosting her into the air by her waist.

Archibald and the others tensed up, ready to jump into action.

“It’s fine!” she yelled. “She won’t hurt me!”

She felt much less certain about this statement now than she had before.

Null quickly flew through the hallways of the palace, perfectly retracing the path Sidan had taken. For anyone else, following a trail that was this far into the past required some preparation beforehand, but Null obviously wasn’t bound by this limitation. The two of them arrived at the kitchens in no time.

“A clever enchantment,” Null growled. “However…”

A blue pulse spread from her body, filling the kitchens. The semi permeable wall that hid the secret room crumbled.

Estrel internally cringed. Setting that up and maintaining it, while at the same time keeping it secret from the kitchen staff, had demanded a lot of effort and money.

Null set her down, and entered the secret room, the chest containing the white potions open and Sidan nowhere to be seen. She placed a tendril on the circle, then stood still. A few seconds passed. She removed it.

“I… hadn’t been aware there was another teleporter in this city,” she mumbled.

Estrel released the breath she had been holding.

“A queen has to have a few secrets,” she replied, allowing herself a bit of smugness.

Teleporting circles were extremely difficult and expensive to build, and their creation was highly restricted. The fact that Null hadn’t known it existed until now meant she had covered her tracks well. Ones that could be activated by anyone, and not just a select few people, were especially frowned upon. She’d had to pull a lot of strings with some shady individuals to get it done.

“Are there more?” Null asked.

“No,” Estrel replied truthfully. She didn’t want to be further restricted in her movements, which would probably happen if Null suspected she could escape.

“Where did he go?” the monster demanded.

Estrel said nothing. It was possible for a skilled mage to determine the destination of a teleporting circle if they came in contact with it. However, if the circle on the other side was rendered non-functional, it became completely impossible to do so, at least according to their current understanding of magic. It seemed even Null could not break this particular rule, at least not in just a few seconds.

“TELL ME!” Null howled, floating closer to the queen, lightning crackling down her tendrils.

Estrel was terrified, but didn’t let panic consume her this time. She stood tall, glaring at the faceless abomination.

“Or what?” she yelled back, accusingly “You’ll torture the answer out of me? Kill my friends in front of my eyes? For all your lofty talks of not wishing to be a tyrant, you are nothing but a thug who uses force to get what she wants!”

Her heart was beating so hard she could almost hear it. Cold sweat beaded above her wide-open eyes, barely able to contain their hatred.

After what felt like an eternity, Null relaxed, harmlessly dissipating her electricity.

“You are right,” she said in a voice that almost sounded tired. “I apologize for my outburst. It would be foolish of me not to expect you to do whatever you can to resist me. If I failed to stop you, then it is my fault, not yours. Just… go. Go speak with your people. I’ll remain here, and try to get the answer myself.”

Estrel, her knees weak, turned around, then hesitated.

“One last thing, Null. What about food and water? Your barrier blocked access to our fields, and with it covering the sky above the entire city, we probably won’t get any rain. I don’t know how it works with whatever your species is, but us humans need those. So do the few Drakes in the city.”

“Hm? Oh, right,” Null replied. “Your people can surely survive for a few days with their stored food and water. I’ll take care of that problem soon enough. Just… not now.”

As satisfied as she could be, Estrel walked out, and began making her way back to the throne room. She still had a lot of questions, and there was a very real chance that Null would find Sidan before he could accomplish his task, but she had done all she could, and had made tangible progress. She didn’t feel proud, exactly, but she could allow herself to relax, just a little bit, and move on to other matters.

Her hopes now rested entirely on the shoulders of a young city guard that she barely knew. The best she could do was silently pray for his success.


	5. The Hermit and the Sword 1.4 - Whispers

It was a beautiful night, and he couldn’t bring himself to enjoy it.

Sidan was in a large grassy field, sitting close to the entrance of the hidden bunker, that he had teleported into minutes ago. He stared forward, almost motionless, as he slowly chewed on rations that he’d found in there. Time was of the essence, but he had to recover some strength before starting the six hour walk towards Dordox.

Valronia Forest was on the other side of the kingdom compared to Estrellis, close to the border between Morance and Korelon, and he had teleported far enough that the sun had already set. The moon was bright, and almost full. This far from the lights of civilization, the sight of the stars should have been breath-taking. On any other night, he would have admired the show, and enjoyed the warm summer breeze, but right now? He had other things on his mind.

He could barely spot Valronia in the distance, an amorphous band of darkness that stretched from horizon to horizon and contrasted sharply with the unassuming plains in Sidan’s vicinity. Valronia wasn’t really the kind of forest you would go to have a pleasant morning stroll. It was large, dark, didn’t have any well-travelled trails, and was populated by dangerous wildlife both mundane... and monstrous.

The term “monster”, in casual language, referred to any wildlife (as well as the occasional plant or fungus) that possessed dangerous magical abilities. In academic terms, it meant mostly the same thing, with the added specificity that monsters were anomalous magic users that belonged to otherwise magicless species. This was opposed to the Gifted, which referred to entire species that could use magic. They tended to be rather limited in that regard, however, with the exception of humans and drakes.

In any case, the average monster tended to be more threatening than the average Gifted, and Valronia Forest was full of the former. It did lend some weight to the Queen’s theory that the Daughter of Light’s sword was in there, as monsters tended to congregate in great numbers around powerful magic items. He’d heard once that there was debate from experts on whether the monsters were created by the artifacts, simply attracted to it, or a mix of both, but that was beside the point.

The point was that Valronia was dangerous, people went missing in there all the time, and Sidan didn’t fancy his chances of getting out in one piece even if he had an adventuring crew by his side. And that was without counting the task of actually finding the damn sword. He wasn’t even sure if the bribe Queen Estrel had given him would be enough to tempt some poor fools to accompany him.

He… well, he could deal with that later. He’d done enough delaying already.

Sidan got up, then flipped shut the trapdoor that led to the underground bunker, and the now-broken teleportation circle. The camouflaged hatch blended in so well with the surrounding grass and dirt that no one would have been able to spot it if they didn’t already know it was there. He’d also seen a few faintly glowing diagrams on the walls inside, which he assumed warded off against magical detection.

Taking one last look around to make sure he was in the right direction, Sidan started the walk towards Dordox. If he continued south for a few hours, he was supposed to find a river that would lead him right to his destination.

He’d found replenishing potions in the bunker, and took the opportunity to completely heal all his injuries. He’d eaten his fill as well, and felt energised enough to make the walk in respectable time. He was still exhausted, of course, and would have loved nothing more than to sink down into a warm bed, but he’d just have to deal.

So why was it so hard to put one foot in front of the other?

The first tear surprised him. By the time the fourth came, he couldn’t fight it anymore, and sank to his knees.

“Fuck…” he muttered, quiet.

The enormity of the situation ahead fully dawned on him. What was he even doing?

The Queen hadn’t chosen him because of his capabilities. He knew it, she knew it, she knew he knew it, and that strange Archibald fellow knew it. On the contrary, it was precisely because he was a nobody that the Queen chose him. He understood her logic, and didn’t hold it against her. But this understanding was not going to make his task any easier.

He wasn’t a thrill seeker, or a glory hound. All he had ever wanted to do was protect his city. He loved Estrellis. He loved Morance. He loved his friends, his mother, his family, and all the people living there. Joining the City Guard had been his way of doing whatever he could to protect those he cared about. It had been a way to bring stability into his life at a time when he really needed it.

Strange, faceless monsters that could break the rules of magic, personally meeting the queen, being tasked with retrieving a legendary artifact… it all sounded like a fairy tale.

He had, of course, fantasized about being given a quest like this, once. What child didn’t?. But to actually live it? The Queen expected him to accomplish all this, and then… what, use the sword against the Slicers? Against that _thing_ in the throne room that had actually seemed intelligent, and could supposedly defeat eleven of the world’s best mages, all at once, in just _minutes_?

Part of him wanted to make the Slicers pay. To do whatever he could to take back his homeland. The bigger part told him to run as far away from all this as possible.

But he couldn’t. He had a mission. A mission that may have been doomed from the start, but one he would try to finish regardless. He needed to get a move on. And besides, crying _had_ made him feel a bit better.

He took a deep breath, wiped his tears away, and found the strength to take another step.

_You poor soul… It is a great burden you carry on your shoulders. I’m sorry that I’ll have to make it heavier._

The whisper, quiet, yet so clear, startled him. He grabbed his sword’s pommel, ready to unsheathe it at a moment’s notice, his eyes digging holes in the shadows draped between the trees.

“Who’s there?” he shouted.

_Please be quiet. Think, and I will hear you._

He did just that, replying to the voice that was apparently in his head.

_Who are you? What do you want?_

_We do not have much time_ , it replied, ignoring him. _The leader of the ones you call the Slicers, she is after the same thing you are. If you do as the queen told you, she will get there before you._

His heart sank. He had absolutely no reason to believe this strange voice, and yet… he knew it was telling the truth.

_Sidan. Listen to me. It’s not hopeless. It will be hard, but you can win this. I made sure of it. All you need to do is let me guide you, and then to wield my sword._

His thoughts screeched to a halt. “My” sword?

_No fucking way… Are you…?_

_Not quite. I am a shadow of a shadow, a whisper of a whisper of the real Luciel Anwar. But she created me specifically for a situation like this. If you let me, I can show you where the sword is. You can get there before your adversary. You will figure out the rest._

The rational part of his mind told him to ignore this voice. But none of what had happened in the last few hours was rational, was it? Was it that farfetched that the ghost of the Daughter of Light was asking him to follow in her footsteps and wield the same weapon she had used to seal the demons away?

…Okay, maybe it was, but his gut feeling told him the Queen’s plan had been doomed from the start. If there was even the slightest chance this voice was telling the truth, then he had to take it. Even if it meant braving the depths of Valronia Forest alone. Even if it meant taking the fight against the Slicers by himself. It might have been just based on hope, yes, but hope was all he had left. Besides, if this was some sort of enemy ploy to divert his attention, he imagined there were much more plausible ways to go at it.

 _I’ll do it_ , he told the voice, really hoping that he wasn’t making a mistake.

 _Good_ , it replied.

The next moment, his mind was flooded with new information, and he knew how to get to the sword. He tried not to be too bothered by the mental intrusion. It wasn’t exactly a mental map, but he had a good idea of the path he needed to take, communicated in something other than words and images. He noted the path wasn’t a straight one, and took a significant detour. Before he could ask, the voice answered.

_Follow the path closely. Before getting to the sword, you will find a house. Explain the situation to the woman living there. It will become clear why later. I wish I could tell you more, but I am almost out of time. He is currently distracted, but not for long. Once his attention turns back here, I won’t be able to talk to you anymore. I’m sorry._

_He? Who is “he”?_ Sidan asked.

 _I cannot say. Even telling you this much is dangerous. Which brings me to my final point. Do not tell_ anyone _about this conversation. Do not write about it, gesture about it, or hint about it in any way. If someone asks you how you found your way to the sword, lie, and play dumb. Understood?_

He mentally nodded.

 _Thank you,_ the voice said, its quiet whisper fading by the second. _You have a good heart, Sidan. I believe you will make a fine hero. When the time come, I hope you can find the strength to do what Luciel couldn’t._

At this point, the voice was so quiet that Sidan had trouble understanding its individual words, even when projected directly into his mind. Still, the last one uttered by the voice before it faded completely was unmistakable, for it was communicated more with raw, real emotions, than imagined sounds.

 _Forgive_.

* * *

Valronia Forest was even darker than he had imagined. Not only could he barely see a thing, but there was also an oppressive atmosphere permeating the whole place. Was this shape that had quickly flown over him a minute ago a harmless owl, or some sort of flying monster that would have sucked his blood had it been hungry? Did him stepping on and loudly breaking a twig earlier wake up a predator that was now quietly stalking him?

He thanked the stars that the moon was out, or else he might have truly been blind.

Sidan was moving through the dense trees at a brisk pace, keeping his ears trained, and furtively looking in all directions for potential dangers. Though he tried to stay completely alert, he couldn’t help but replay his conversation with that whisper of a voice. More specifically, that last word: Forgive.

Assuming it had been telling the truth, then that meant… what, exactly? That Luciel had desired to forgive the demons after having already dealt with them? Or that she had wanted to forgive them before that, but couldn’t? He found that hard to believe. Accounts from that period had been so distorted and exaggerated over the centuries that it was hard today to separate the facts from the truth. Still, one thing was clear: the demonic invasion had been an absolutely horrific affair.

The winged, horned humanoids had indiscriminately slaughtered humans and drakes alike, not caring one bit about if their victim was a soldier or a civilian. They seemingly had had no long-term plan for conquest and subjugation, just pure and simple genocide. Interrogations on captured demons had yielded no information either.

Luciel had supposedly ended the war by travelling to the Underworld, the gigantic cave complex from which they had originated, and defeating their queen in combat. Then, she had completely sealed the caves from the outside world by encasing them in a cage of pink crystal, of the same kind that made up her sword. Nobody knew exactly how the material worked, but nobody had seen a demon in over six hundred years either, so they couldn’t argue with the results.

As far as Sidan was concerned, this fate was much too kind for them. If even a tenth of the stories were true…

The Slicers had already started off on a slightly better foot, by focusing their killing on people who were actively resisting them. That didn’t mean he was very keen to forgive them either.

And even if the demons or Slicers somehow had a justification that made their slaughter forgivable, why did the voice even care?

In the end, Luciel had taken care of her problem, forgiveness or not. And, stars be willing, Sidan would do his damned best to take care of his. If that demanded violence, then so be it. And if it demanded violence against the spindly bastards that had invaded his home and possibly taken the lives of people he cared about? He wouldn’t do it happily, but he could certainly think of worse targets. The voice wanted him to find the strength to forgive? He’d use his strength towards more productive endeavours, thank you very much.

Still, it had to be significant somehow. Why had the voice bothered to tell him this as its parting words? Was this related to the “he” that it had mentioned, that was apparently the reason why it could only divulge limited information, and why he could not tell anyone about this conversation?

…He needed to know more.

Preoccupied as he was, he failed to notice the dry branch under his foot. The crack echoed through the trees, piercing the gloomy silence.

He stopped, breathless, cursing himself for his inattention. The last time he had done this, nothing had happened. This time, he wasn’t so lucky.

A few seconds later, a pair of glowing eyes emerged from the trees, and the rest of the beast followed soon after. It was squat, robustly built, and its back covered in spikes. If it wasn’t for the three pairs of legs, it might have been mistaken for an oversized hedgehog or porcupine. Though he couldn’t see it in the gloom, Sidan knew that the arrangement of its digits was also different from that of four-legged animals, looking more like a tree branch, with the fingers originating at various points along a central bone.

It was a piqueswine, a normally mid-sized herbivore that was actually more closely related to drakes and other six-limbed creatures than to its mammalian lookalikes. They were supposed to be harmless to humans, unless threatened, in which case their spikes could put on the hurt. Of course, this one was no normal piqueswine, and was clearly on the more monstrous side of things.

For one, it was massive. A piqueswine would normally be barely able to reach his mid-thigh with all its spikes raised. This one was almost standing eye-to-eye with him. Its spikes were dripping an opaque fluid whose colour he couldn’t quite discern. He couldn’t imagine coming into contact with it would be good for him.

Another kind of fluid was dribbling from its mouth. From the smell, he had a good idea of what it was. It appeared that this particular herbivore had acquired a taste for meat.

 _Dammit! I’m only a few minutes away from the house. I just_ had _to let my guard down._

Berating himself was not going to solve the problem, so he started thinking of a solution. The altered piqueswine had definitely spotted him, and considering the low growls it made, as well as its threateningly raised quills, it probably wasn’t here to demand pets.

He hesitantly took a step backwards, trying to make himself as harmless as possible. The monster took a step forward.

He switched tracks, and unsheathed his sword, holding it between himself and his foe. The oversized hexapod only growled louder, and further raised its quills, making itself appear even larger. Sidan would be lying if he said that trick had no effect on him.

He turned tail and ran. He was almost at the house, and if he could make it there, he’d have shelter. At least, he hoped. He had no idea if it was a proper house, or a rickety little cabin, but it would probably be safer there than here.

The monster had other plans, and with surprising swiftness considering its size, circled around him, blocking the way within seconds. He wouldn’t be able to outrun it.

“Alright, if that’s how you want to play it,” Sidan muttered, steeling his nerves.

He felt he had a pretty good shot of killing the beast. Doing so in one piece was another story, however. Whatever that liquid on its spines was, he didn’t want it anywhere near him. Monsters were generally meaner, bigger, and stronger versions of already existing animals, and many of them possessed unpredictable, and often lethal magic abilities.

The piqueswine turned around, and showed its back to him. For a second, he let himself hope it was about to run away, before his instincts screamed at him to drop down.

He did, just as the monster fired a volley of quills out of its back. They flew, barely missing him, and embedded themselves in the trees behind him with a dull thud.

That… was definitely not something normal piqueswines could do. He rolled out of the way of another volley and ran, trying to keep trees between himself and his foe. The monster had to turn around again to give chase, which bought him a precious few moments.

Sidan had to end this fight quickly. His foe wasn’t about to run out of quills any time soon, and if that liquid was some sort of venom, it might only take one lucky shot to take him out of commission. He had his regeneration magic, of course, but there was no guarantee it would work against a toxin of magical origin. And the longer this went, the more likely it was that this scuffle would attract other monsters.

He had to hope the piqueswine didn’t have any other trick up its sleeve. The magic that monsters could use was often powerful and unconventional, but also not very versatile. And thankfully, he wasn’t powerless himself.

Still running, he bent down and grabbed a hefty looking rock. Glancing over his shoulder, he waited until he had a clear line of sight to his opponent, and threw the rock using enhanced strength.

It struck the piqueswine on its back, producing a satisfying crack and snapping off a large number of quills. The monster howled in pain, but continued its chase with a slight limp, barely slowed down.

Sidan didn’t have time to repeat this trick. He dove behind a tree, and the piqueswine was there a second later. He slashed at its face with his sword, producing a shallow cut.

It hissed in pain, and backed away, showing him its quills once more. He dodged another volley, but this time, instead of running away, he took the opportunity to get closer to it with a burst of speed. Startled, the piqueswine couldn’t fully escape his next slash, and received a deep cut on its back, as well as many severed quills for his efforts.

It thrashed, insensate, blindly firing its quills all over the place. Whatever it was that made them different from the spikes of a normal piqueswine seemed to have made them pretty sensitive to pain.

Sidan took cover, waiting for an opportunity. When he felt it was safe, he burst out from behind his tree, and stuck his sword down the monster’s throat. With a gurgle, it went limp.

Sidan breathed a sigh of relief, and took his sword out, backing away from the unmoving beast.

But his victory was premature. Using the last of its strength, the piqueswine opened its jaws, and stuck out its tongue, revealing a single quill that emerged from the tip. With one final muscle contraction, it fired it, and then dropped dead.

The quill flew slower than the ones that had come from its back, but it didn’t matter. Sidan was too close to dodge it. It embedded itself between his thumb and index.

As soon as he realized what had happened, he ripped it out, but it was too late. Whatever strange liquid the quill was covered in was already working its effects. Sidan’s entire left hand went numb, and hung limp, no longer responding to his nervous system. The effect quickly spread towards his arm. He activated his regenerative magic, and the zone of numbness receded ever so slowly.

He knew it wouldn’t be enough. His reserves would run out long before the toxin was completely eliminated, even with the reserve potions he had grabbed in the bunker.

He- the house. He had to get to the house. He was almost there.

Sidan ran, no longer trying to be discreet. His first potion ran out, then his second. Soon, the entire stash he had been able to bring with him had disappeared, and the toxin spread to his arm, then to his shoulder. It was getting hard to breathe, and his vision was going blurry.

He burst into a clearing, and saw a small, one story house. He sprinted towards the door, and tripped a few meters away from it, his legs no longer supporting his weight. He dragged himself the last of the way with his still functioning right arm, and desperately knocked at the door. A few seconds later, it opened.

“Please,” the paralyzed guard pleaded, unable to even lift his head to look at his potential savior. “Help. Potions.”

He passed out.

* * *

Sidan awoke in a comfortable bed.

For a moment, he just lay there, unwilling to move, simply enjoying the sensations. Then it all came rushing back to him.

He shot up, and looked around in a panic. He was in a small, well lit bedroom. He might have described it as cozy, if it wasn’t for the full bookshelves that covered all four walls, offering a selection of likely hundreds of books. Not that he had anything against books, but the number just seemed excessive to him.

Oddest of all was his presumed savior, and likely the woman the voice had told him to seek out. She was sitting in a chair in the corner, and quietly reading. When she noticed him awake, she closed her book, and smiled at him.

Her skin was an odd shade of pale brown, almost bordering on yellow. Her hair, by contrast, was pure white, short, and messy in a way that seemed unintentional but still ended up looking good. Her facial features and thin frame combined to give her an overall rather androgynous appearance. Gauging her age was hard — she could have been twenty, or forty, and he would have been none the wiser.

Keeping in with the room’s theme, her outfit was one that felt inspired by a librarian’s, consisting of a stylish dark blue blouse and an ankle length brown skirt.

Where had she come from? The people from the island nations close to the equator sometimes had similarly white hair, but their skin was a lot darker. He’d never seen anyone with skin like hers.

“Finally awake, eh? I must say, it’s not everyday that I get a dying stranger at my doorstep. Or every night, rather,” she said.

Though she seemed amused, Sidan had much more pressing concerns.

“How long was I out?” he asked, voice hoarse.

“Oh? About one hour I’d say. You heal quickly. Regeneration magic, I assume?”

He nodded mutely, relieved. Losing an hour was not ideal, but it could have been far worse.

He sat up fully, a little shaky, but otherwise fine. He experimentally opened and closed his hand. It felt a bit sluggish.

The woman observed him in silence, then spoke up.

“You were very lucky that I had magic replenishing potions on hand, as well as more conventional anti-venom. I wasn’t sure it would work, but I poured potions down your throat, and you activated your magic while unconscious. Unconscious magic use only happens with people skilled in that particular branch, so congratulations, I suppose. But if it wasn’t for that… I don’t think you would have made it.”

He looked up in surprise. He hadn’t known that was a thing he could do. He didn’t _feel_ all that skilled at self-healing. Then again, the vast majority of the population only knew one or two spells that were required for their profession or hobby, or even no spells at all. To learn more, and more importantly, maintain them at an acceptable level was much too time consuming for most.

As far as magic went, regeneration was pretty popular with the general public, but few bothered to train it to the level where they could heal major wounds in minutes. Other than guards, soldiers, and jobs that regularly involved violence, of course. It wasn’t much of a stretch to say that he was one of the most skilled people alive in the art of regeneration, even if that wasn’t as big of an accomplishment as it sounded.

“I suggest you lay low for a few days,” his savior told him. “I don’t think you’ll get any permanent side-effects, but that toxin did a number on your body. You can never be too sure.”

“I’m afraid that’s not an option,” he replied, shaking his head. “I really appreciate what you did for me, but I- we don’t have time to rest, Miss- err, sorry, I don’t think I caught your name.”

“Oh! My apologies,” she said, mortified. “You may call me Liv.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's all I wrote so far. From now on updates will match to those of other websites.


	6. The Hermit and the Sword 1.5 - The First Companion

“You may call me Liv.”

“I’m Sidan, nice to meet you,” he answered mechanically, thinking of how to word the next part.

“What exactly was so urgent, if you don’t mind me asking?” Liv asked. “Is it related to whatever it is you’re doing in Valronia in the middle of the night?”

“Yes. Yes, it is. This may be hard to believe, but, um…”

He floundered, unsure of where to begin. Did he go straight into the topic of the sword? The Voice had told him to go visit Liv and tell her what was going on before finding the sword itself, so surely, she had a connection to it, one deeper than simply knowing its location. If that had been the case, he wouldn’t need to seek her at all, given he already knew where it was.

“Take your time,” Liv said.

That was exactly what Sidan shouldn’t be doing right now. He shook his head, and decided to start at the beginning and skip over the unimportant details.

“Estrellis has been invaded by strange monsters. They somehow erected a gigantic forcefield around the city, and only a few people were able to escape before they broke all the teleporters. I was one of them, but the queen is still in there.”

Liv, who had previously sported a kind half-smile, now looked at him with suspicion.

“What? Is this a joke? And what kind of monsters, anyway?”

“Afraid not,” he grunted. “I wouldn’t believe it myself if I hadn’t seen it. As for the monsters, they looked like masses of metallic ribbons that could somehow move on their own. Don’t suppose you ever heard of anything like them?”

“No. And even if I did believe you, that doesn’t explain what you were doing in one of the most dangerous places in the kingdom in the middle of the night, alone.”

_I’d like to know what you’re doing_ living _in one of the most dangerous places in the kingdom_ , he wanted to blurt out, but held his tongue.

“Before I escaped via a secret teleporter, the Queen gave me a mission. She… have you, maybe, ever seen a strange sword around these parts?”

“Just get to the point,” Liv told him, lips tight.

“Alright. The Queen believes that the Daughter of Light’s sword is hidden somewhere in this forest. Due to circumstances that would take too long to explain, I was the only one able to escape, and she told me to go looking for it. She believes it’s the only thing with the power to repel this threat. Given what I’ve seen, I believe her.”

Liv went still.

“The leader of the Slicers – that’s what I’ve been calling those monsters – I think it’s after the sword too. It was _really_ powerful. It apparently fought with the Grandmaster of Estrellis and ten of the Royal Guards at once, and won. If it gets to the sword before me, then…”

Sidan supposed that both the Queen and the Voice had referred to the abomination as a “she”, but he could only picture it as an “it” for now. He’d avoid personifying it for as long as he could.

Liv looked pensive as she stared at him, fingers rhythmically tapping the cover of her book.

“Stay here, I’ll be back in a minute,” she eventually told him as she got up and left the room.

Sidan stayed in bed. For now, he felt it was more important to gain this strange woman’s trust than to rush off to find the sword.

For a second, the room was noticeably brighter, light from the outside filtering through the window blinds. Before he could open them to investigate the source, it faded. Liv was back a few seconds later, troubled. She leaned against a bookshelf, and said nothing. After a little while, Sidan decided to break the silence.

“What did you do just now? There was a li-”

“Let’s say, hypothetically,” Liv cut him off, “that I do believe you, and that you did find the sword in this forest. What would you do with it?”

“I guess I would wield it, and use its power to drive back the Slicers, just like the Daughter of Light did with the demons,” he answered. “I know I’m not the ideal person for the job, but… I’m the only one. Other than you I guess.”

“The leader of these ‘Slicers’, how sure are you that it’s after the sword?”

“Pretty sure. I don’t have any concrete evidence, but…” He held his tongue. He’d almost mentioned his conversation with the Voice. “I just have a bad feeling about this whole thing. The enemy came prepared, and seemed to know a lot of magic we don’t. I can’t imagine that they would ignore such an obvious threat to them. Or maybe they don’t think it’s a threat at all, in which case we might as well give up. And I’m not willing to do that just yet.”

Liv didn’t answer.

“ _Do you_ know anything about the sword?” Sidan broke the silence again. “You were speaking in hypotheticals earlier, but you didn’t deny anything…”

At that, Liv shook herself into action, and turned towards the door.

“Thank you for bringing this to my attention, Sidan,” she said, looking at him over her shoulder. “You can rest here for a while, if you wish. Once you feel better, flee from this forest, and don’t concern yourself with this matter any further. You did what you could. Let me handle the rest.”

“Wait, are you just going to leave me here?”

But Liv was already gone.

_Is this what you wanted, Voice? For me to laze in a bed while someone else finishes my job for me?_

Given that the Voice had explicitly wanted him to find the sword himself, he didn’t feel that was the case.

With great willpower, he dragged himself out of that wonderful bed, and almost lost his balance as his head started spinning.

_I need some sugar._

Once his bout of dizziness subsided, he shakily walked out, and found that the living room was as bookshelves-filled as the bedroom.

_Damn. That girl_ really _likes books._

He found a pantry and was surprised to discover that it was full of sweets, but did not have much in the way of nutritious ingredients. He didn’t give it too much thought, however, and soon was gulping down generous spoonfuls of honey. On any other day, he would have felt guilty for this, but right now he was just too tired to care.

Once he felt better, he put his armor back on, doing his best to suppress the slight shaking of his hands. He helped himself with a few of the potions that were at the foot of the bed, and set out into the forest again. Liv was long gone, but that was fine. He knew where to find her.

* * *

His second trip through Valronia Forest went much smoother than the first. He paid more attention to his surroundings, and this time did not attract any unwanted company from a careless mistake.

He did encounter a group of rat-sized termites on the way, but the monsters had been more content to keep chomping on a dead tree than to go after him.

An hour after leaving the house, he was almost there. He didn’t know what to expect, or what the future would hold. He hoped that he could trust the Voice, and Liv. He hoped that his earlier bout with the piqueswine hadn’t lost him too much time. Most of all, he hoped that he hadn’t made a mistake. Sidan took a deep breath, and made the final step.

He found himself in another clearing, much bigger than the one surrounding Liv’s home. There was a clear view of the night sky, the moon and stars a welcome sight following the oppressive darkness of Valronia. And in the center…

A white rock, pierced by a single shard of pink crystal in the vague shape of a sword. His breath caught. He’d seen countless artistic depictions of this legendary artifact, but to actually behold it in person...

The sword barely seemed real, almost looking like a chunk of crystalized light rather than a solid object. It refracted and amplified the light of the moon, bathing the whole clearing in a soft pink light that soothed his tired spirit. With every movement he made, the kaleidoscope pattern changed, revealing a completely new facet of it.

He wanted nothing more than to lose himself in this mesmerizing jewel, and stare at it for hours. But he was not alone.

“Well, aren’t you just full of surprises?” Liv said. “How did you find me? Tracking magic? Didn’t think you were the type.”

“No, just regular old tracking,” he lied. “You aren’t very good at hiding your tracks.”

Liv _had_ left some footprints and broken twigs that could potentially be followed, but he would have never noticed them if he hadn’t already known which path to take. Still, he felt it was a plausible enough excuse.

Liv got up from her sitting position close to the rock. Sidan noticed a huge, full backpack close to her that was easily as voluminous as she was. Has she carried it by herself?

“Just leave, Sidan. Leave and forget you ever saw this place. I have this handled.”

“And how exactly are you planning to ‘handle’ it? Were you just going to sit here and wait for the monster that conquered our capital in a few hours to find this place?”

Liv did not answer.

“Nobody just _lives_ in Valronia Forest. You expect me to believe you moved here on a whim, and then just happened to find this place while taking a stroll one day? You aren’t just any regular old hermit.”

“No, I don’t expect you to believe that, Sidan,” she answered, quiet. “I expect you to leave, and let me do my thing. You are in way over your head. This blade is not yours to wield.”

“Who then? You?”

“No. The right person still hasn’t arrived. When they do, I will know.”

“And who are you to decide this?”

Liv chuckled humorlessly.

“I,” she said, adding a dramatic pause, “am the first companion of Luciel Anwar. I am the one who guided her to this sword, and I am the one who will guide the next chosen hero the next time it is needed.”

“No you aren’t,” was Sidan’s automatic reply.

“Oh, and why might that be?” Liv asked, eyebrow raised.

“Even ignoring the fact that that would make you more than six hundred years old, none of the history books mention you. There’s a lot of confusion surrounding the demon war, but historians are pretty sure that Luciel had only five companions. There’s almost as much written about them as for the big woman herself. And you… weren’t one of them.”

Even as he said the words, he did not believe them. So much had happened in the last six hours, things that he would have labelled as impossible this very morning. If this strange woman, who seemed to know so much more than him about what was going on, claimed to be an immortal who had personally known one of the most influential figures in recorded history? He believed her.

“No, I suppose they wouldn’t mention me,” Liv said.

What was _that_ supposed to mean?

“But it doesn’t matter what you believe,” she continued. “I will not let you touch that sword. When Luciel came looking for it, I knew that she was the one. And I’m not just talking about my intuition. I have a quite literal sixth sense for this. You? I’m sure you’re a fine guy, but you are simply not the one I’m looking for.”

“No, I’m not. I’m terrified right now. The most violence I was involved in before all this was getting fireballed in the face by a drunk idiot. But unless you’re willing to take up that sword yourself, then nobody else but me will get here before our enemy. And if _that_ happens… Besides, don’t the scriptures say that the Daughter of Light was a regular person before taking up that sword? Anyone can beco-”

“I don’t give a shit what the scriptures say!” Liv cut him off, with surprising venom. “Luciel was a real person, not a legend made up to give false hopes to gullible idiots! And you have no idea what you are talking about. I’m not letting you get to that sword. End of story.”

“So what, you’ll just wait until your perfect knight in shining armor who may not even exist comes here? The leader of the Slicers could be here any minute now! We can’t let it get its hands on that sword.”

“The sword has activated, so they do exist. And that is a risk I am willing to take. It worked out the last time. If anyone but Luciel had bonded with the sword, victory would not have been possible. Only she could have brought out its full potential.”

Sidan glanced at the sword. How did she know it was “activated”? Did it usually look different from this? Or was this related to that strange light from earlier?

“Can’t you just take the sword yourself and wait in a more secure place for your hero to show up?” he asked.

“I can’t.”

“Why the fuck not?” Sidan shouted, exasperated.

“I physically can’t. The sword can’t bond to me, and it won’t get out of the rock otherwise. I can’t destroy the rock either. It’s a lot harder than it looks.”

_She can’t bond with the sword, but people other than the “chosen hero” can? What?_

_That doesn’t make any sense._

Sidan put his hand on his own sword’s pommel, not unsheathing it yet, but making his intent clear.

“I’m not going, Liv. Every second I’m not doing whatever I can to fight against the Slicers is a second someone I care about might be in mortal danger. I don’t know why you’re so obsessed with this chosen hero business, but I know that it will only make things worse. Step aside. I _will_ use violence if I have to.”

“So will I,” she answered, not bothered in the slightest. “And I do believe that if it comes to that, the outcome will not be the one you want.”

Sidan tensed, and realized that he’d made a terrible mistake assuming Liv was defenseless, despite all evidence to the contrary. One didn’t just live in Valronia Forest without some way to dish out the hurt. Should he rush her? No, that would be suicidal. Better to wait and see what she was capable of.

Casually, Liv bent down and opened her backpack, pulling it down around whatever had been in there. It was… paper?

A massive stack of paper that went all the way up to her chest, each sheet the area of a hefty encyclopedia. Before Sidan could question her strange cargo, Liv raised her arm in a dramatic motion. A dozen sheets levitated in the air, lazily rotating around her.

“This is not about you Sidan,” Liv said. “It never was. There are forces much greater than you and I at play here, forces that have set up a whole system meant to handle these types of dangers. It worked perfectly fine the first time, and as a part of that system myself, I will not let you disrupt it based on nothing but a hunch of yours.”

She closed her fist, and all of the hovering sheets folded themselves into arrow shapes, one of which was pointed straight at the tree directly to Sidan’s right. With another gesture, it flew.

The paper sheet-turned-arrow flew through the tree’s branches, and disappeared into the night sky. Several branches fell to the ground, sliced off. 

Not taking his eyes off Liv, Sidan bent down, and felt a branch’s cut with his fingers. The slice was completely clean. He gulped. He had _definitely_ made a terrible mistake.

“Last warning,” Liv said, all the remaining arrows now pointing at Sidan. “Leave.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Many thanks to the Cauldron server for proofreading.


	7. The Hermit and the Sword 1.6 - Bloodstained Pages

**Chapter 6 – Bloodstained Pages**

_Damn you, Voice! I thought your friend was supposed to make my life easier, not attack me with strange magic!_

Sidan was warily keeping his distance from Liv, ready to jump the second she decided to send more of her paper projectiles at him. His sword was still kept away, for now. He didn’t want to escalate the hostilities if he could.

If Liv really _was_ one of Luciel’s companions, had she changed over the centuries? Or had Luciel’s creation misjudged how she would react to the news the sword was needed?

He also couldn’t dismiss the idea that the Voice had deceived him, and never had anything to do with the Daughter of Light, a dark part of his mind ever so helpfully reminded him.

Regardless of Sidan’s feelings on his mysterious guide, he knew that he needed to get that blade. He simply couldn’t afford to let the Slicers’ leader get its tendrils on it. Despite Liv’s confidence that everything was going as planned and that there was nothing to worry about, what little he could understand of this “system” of hers sounded unnecessarily convoluted and self-defeating.

“Can we talk about this, Liv?” he asked, clinging on to a vain hope that this could be resolved without bloodshed.

“We already have,” she answered. “I can’t imagine you’ll say anything that will change my mind. Besides, weren’t you the one just seconds ago claiming you’d use violence if necessary? Awfully hypocritical of you to walk that back the second you realize you’re outmatched.”

To punctuate her statement, Liv swept her arm, firing two paper arrows, this time straight at him. He leapt out of the way, and was relieved to see that he dodged them with room to spare, even as the projectiles slightly curved towards him while in the air. Unless Liv was purposefully holding back, which was still a very real possibility at this point, he at least wouldn’t have too much trouble avoiding her attacks. He still couldn’t get careless, of course. If what happened to that tree was any indication, getting hit directly by one of these would probably tear him apart like, well, paper.

_Alright then, back to the original plan. This time, with a little more thought put into it._

Sidan chose not to respond to this (completely deserved) accusation of hypocrisy, his thoughts occupied with the task of figuring out a way to win this battle.

He knew he was no genius, or even particularly smart, but he liked to think that he had something of an affinity for one-on-one battles. A sword was only as good as its wielder, and the same was true for magic. Almost anyone could, with enough practice and dedication, learn the same strength and durability enhancing spell he knew, but to use it effectively was another matter.

He saw many of the same mistakes in new recruits to the City Guard. Newbies who would keep the costly spell active for much too long, and find themselves surprised when it inevitably ran out before they could make the decisive blow. Others who were more conservative in their timing, but applied it to a greater area than was required for what they wanted to do, and thus also wasted significant energy. Yet others who had no idea what to _do_ with their temporary supernatural might, other than just punching their opponent.

Sidan had fallen into all these traps himself, once, but had quickly learned. Today, he had a very good track record during friendly spars against his fellow guards, and had even done pretty well against a mid-tier elementalist that Sergeant Callahan had once brought in for a special exercise about the different types of magic they might encounter on the job.

He had never heard of or encountered Liv’s magic before, but even with the difference in raw power, he felt that victory was possible. Not easy, but possible. If he had only relied on his brute strength, he would not have walked away from the Slicers and the piqueswine.

Even though Liv had the clear advantage, offensively speaking, Sidan was better positioned. Liv had to remain close to the sword to guard it, while he had greater maneuverability, and could take cover behind the trees, if need be. Assuming Liv’s paper wasn’t capable of slicing all the way through a tree trunk.

Should he rush towards her, and try and take the sword before she could do anything to him? With well-timed bursts of strength to his legs, he could move deceptively fast, though not for long. No, too much danger, when he was still uncertain of Liv’s limits. He’d keep that option as a last resort.

Liv fired three arrows this time, spread out so that he couldn’t easily dodge them by leaping to the side. Instead, he leapt _over_ them with a quick burst of strength to his legs.

_Either her accuracy is pretty bad, or she wasn’t aiming for any of my vital areas. She wants to scare me off, not kill me. At least, not yet._

That wouldn’t do. Before he could get close to her, he needed to see what she was capable of when going all out, preferably in a situation where he could dodge and retreat from whatever she threw at him. Sidan had no doubts Liv would stop holding back the second he actually threatened to take the sword for himself.

“This all you got?” he taunted.

Counter shaded as it was by both the moonlight and the pink glow of the sword, Sidan had trouble seeing Liv’s face, but he thought he saw her scowling.

_Good. Get angry. Get emotional. Make a mistake. Show me what you can do._

He felt strangely calm, despite his earlier dread when Liv had revealed her mastery of paper. For all of her strangeness, for all of her magic’s lethality, Liv still looked and acted human. He could handle humans. He _welcomed_ humans, after spending hours fighting for his life against faceless living shredders, and a grotesquely mutated monster.

“How do you think this is going to end, Sidan? I don’t need to eat, drink, or sleep. You do. Sooner or later, you’ll make a mistake. We can have a standoff all night, if you wish. Believe me, I’m _very_ patient.”

“Bold of you to assume I need those things.”

“Yeah, I’m going to call your bluff on that. I’ve been around for much longer than you have, and I have a good idea of what you can do. That armor, and that regeneration… You’re a city guard of Estrellis, aren’t you? And that jump you did just now… Enhanced strength, yes? Last I checked, they only teach you those two spells. Certainly not magic that lets you ignore your basic bodily needs.”

“Don’t underestimate me,” Sidan said, with a bravado he didn’t quite feel.

“I’ve faced demons, Sidan. Literal, actual demons. The kind you hear about in legends, history books, and your little holy scriptures. Nothing you can do will phase me.”

Liv swept towards him, and all the remaining arrows flew. No, all but one.

He avoided the initial volley, and Liv fired the remaining one while he had yet to recover from his leap. With practiced motion, he unsheathed his sword, and struck the projectile aside before it could reach him. The paper was surprisingly tough, his sword only embedding itself partway through instead of cutting it in half. A side effect of Liv’s magic?

He also noticed that none of her arrows were recalled back to her side. Was there a limit to how much she could change their initial direction? Or did she need a clear line of sight to control them?

Her supply exhausted, Liv raised her arm, and turned the levitating paper into more arrows. Sidan ran for the trees. Liv relaxed a bit, possibly assuming he was retreating. He wasn’t.

He gathered as many rocks as he could behind the cover of the trees, and threw them at Liv one by one, augmenting the throw with a burst of arm strength right before releasing them.

His aim was true, and one of them struck Liv in the chest. Another grazed her arm. The paper controller yelped, and spread her arms to the side, palms open. Paper flew around her, before settling into a half-dome structure, shielding her and the sword. Sidan experimentally threw stones at it. The paper sheets were budged slightly from the impacts, but held true.

Liv opened small windows in her miniature fortress, and fired arrows at him out of those. They embedded themselves deep in the tree trunks, but didn’t go all the way. Through the small, temporary apertures, he could see Liv make arm motions with each arrow fired, as if she was miming throwing something at him.

It was at this moment that Sidan realized something that should have been obvious in hindsight.

_Whenever she moves her paper sheets, she moves her arms and hands as well. Closing her fist for folding. Sweeping her arms in a particular direction for movement. Probably some more subtleties I’m missing._

He wasn’t sure if arm movements were required for her magic to work, or if they just helped, but it gave him a potential path to victory – immobilize her arms, through whatever means necessary.

Sidan braced himself for the next volley of arrows, but it didn’t come. Thinking about it, it had been an awfully long few seconds since Liv had created an opening in her shield. Was she planning something in there?

She was.

The paper wall opened once more, and what flew out was not an arrow, but a veritable _chain_ of paper, hundreds of sheets braided together in one piece, spikes poking out at regular intervals.

It snaked out of the opening, the heavily spiked tip headed straight towards Sidan. He took cover behind a tree, but it seemed Liv had made this contraption specifically to counter this. The rope took a sharp turn in mid-air, and circled around said plant, before coming back towards her. He ducked, barely avoiding being pinned against the tree. A spike grazed his shoulder, sharp and painful.

Undeterred, the rope returned, flying at him from another angle. He swung at it with enhanced strength, hoping to slice it in half. His sword didn’t even embed itself halfway through, and was violently wrenched from his hand.

_Shit, shit, SHIT! Can’t stay behind cover. Every time she attacks, it limits my movement further. Given how much paper she brought with her, she’s not about to run out of rope anytime soon._

_Can’t retreat. If I do, it’ll just give her the time to cut off the whole perimeter, or build something even worse._

Then, that left…

Sidan took a swig of potion, then ran towards the sword and Liv, leaping over another rope attack. Along the way, he picked up the largest stone he could find, rapidly draining his magic reserves to be able to hold it for a precious few seconds.

He broke into the clearing. Liv fired arrows, all the while the rope swung back towards him.

He did his best to dodge, but the added weight made him less nimble. An arrow struck and embedded itself in his chest plate, the blunt shock leaving him breathless. Another left a deep gash in his thigh. He grit his teeth, and did his best to ignore it. He couldn't regenerate while his strength was active. Only two seconds of magic left, by his estimates.

He raised the stone above his head, looking like he was about to throw it. Liv closed the gaps in her shield, and reinforced it by shifting paper between him and herself. The rope went limp, and fell to the ground.

 _So she_ does _need line of sight to control it._

Sidan dropped the rock, and circled around Liv, well-timed leg strength enhancing his speed. He reached a section of the shield which Liv had thinned out while reinforcing the front, and slammed into it at full speed. He broke through.

Clearly not expecting this, Liv panicked. With a wild, uncontrolled gesture, she threw the entire stack of paper at Sidan. He leapt to the side, and could _feel_ the displacement of air as the projectile that was heavier than he was, and as fast a thrown rock, barely missed him. His magic ran out.

The stack of paper curved upwards, gaining height. It reached the apex of its trajectory, and stood still for just a moment. Then it flew down like a meteor, gaining incredible speed along the way. Aimed straight towards him.

What could he do? Attack Liv? No, too far away. Without any magic left, he wouldn’t make it to her in time.

The bag.

When Liv had fired the stack, her backpack, still wrapped around the base, had come with, and had landed close to him. He grabbed the limp rope bag, and threw it at her face. Line of sight broken; the stack stopped its deadly homing. He rolled, the projectile landing an arm’s length away from him, shaking the earth and launching dirt everywhere.

The shock made Liv land on her butt, still blind. She frantically clawed at the bag, ineffectively trying to pull it off.

Sidan got to his feet, took a quick swig of potion, and ran. Liv managed to get the bag off just in time to see Sidan’s foot make contact with her own elbow. There was a loud crack.

Liv screamed, going flat on her back. Sidan wasted no time, and stomped on her other arm, breaking this one as well.

Panting, Sidan stepped away from Liv. He took no joy in this act of brutality, but it had been the quickest way to end this.

He could see that Liv’s face was a mess of sweat and tears, the fluids reflecting the sword’s pink light. To her credit, the woman hadn’t passed out from the pain, though she was clearly having a bad time.

“Damn,” Liv grit out between pained gasps. “… Guess I got … rusty.”

“I’m sorry about this,” Sidan said. “I’ll get you to a healer after this.”

“Fuck … You,” was the reply.

Liv tried to lift an arm, but quickly gave up, setting it back down with a sharp inhalation.

Sidan felt like scum, leaving her like this, but he had more pressing matters. How much time left until the Slicer mage was here? Whatever the number was, he couldn’t waste-

The paper, strewn all over the ground, shifted.

“Just give up!” Sidan barked, as he turned around.

Liv was lifting not her arm, but her _legs_. She was clearly less adept with them than her other set of limbs, the paper slowly and shakily floating towards the contraption she was building above her head – a massive blade that resembled a guillotine’s.

Sidan tensed his legs, ready to jump out of the way. Except… that blade wasn’t aimed towards him. But at her own neck.

“What are you doing? Stop!”

Liv slammed her legs down. Sidan could do nothing but stare as the blade sunk deep within her neck, slowing to a stop before it could go all the way.

Then, for a lack of a better word, her body… unraveled. Her outer skin peeled away in irregular chunks, then so did the layer below that, and the next. Soon enough, all that was left of Liv was a mess of flakes and blood, kept in the vague shape of a person by her clothes.

Legs weak, Sidan approached the corpse, and bent down, touching one of the driest flakes with his bare hand.

Paper. Aged, stiff paper. Of course.

He almost wanted to laugh, even as the rest of him was filled with revulsion at what he had just witnessed.

He had seen dead bodies before, but to actually see someone die, much less by their own hand…

Why? Why had Liv done this? He…

He couldn’t deal with this.

Turning his back, he walked towards the sword, still softly glowing. He reached for it, and made contact.

* * *

The first thing he saw when he opened his eyes was fog.

Fog as far as he could see, reaching up to his knees. It was so thick that he could not see the ground, which was covered in what he hoped was cool, ankle-deep water. The sky was a clear, bright blue, despite the complete lack of a sun. Though this whole space was well lit, he could find no light source, and saw no shadows, as if every point in space was being illuminated equally.

He turned around, taking it all in. No structures, or any point of interest. Just endless flat terrain, covered by this strangely shallow mist.

“Strange. I did not foresee your coming.”

Sidan turned, hand reaching for his sword. It wasn’t there. In fact, his armor was gone too, replaced by plain, comfortable white clothes.

The man who had spoken behind his back had not been there before. He was tall, and handsome, fine brown hair framing a pale, strong-jawed face. He wore noble’s clothing, as well as a heavy red cape that dragged into the water.

Sidan reached for his magic, and floundered. He could feel his magic reserves, but not access them. Locked away, somehow.

“Worry not, child. I mean you no harm,” the man said.

“Who are you? What is this place?” Sidan said, keeping his distance.

“I am King Magnus the Third. Creator of this blade you just touched. As for this place? It is an illusion, a dream created for me to communicate with newly bonded users of this weapon. For now, this includes only one Luciel Anwar, and… you.”

With these words, the reality of what Sidan had accomplished finally crashed down on him. The Daughter of Light’s source of power was his. Despite his earlier insistence that anyone could have followed in Luciel’s footsteps, he didn’t feel worthy of it. He’d only gotten there through luck and guidance from mysterious entities. He knew that his victory against Liv was a very narrow one as well. If she hadn’t held back, and gone straight for the kill at the earliest opportunity, he didn’t see how he could still be alive right now.

But it didn’t matter whether he deserved this power or not. At the end of the day, it was still his, and he use to his utmost ability to free his city.

“But,” Magnus continued, “I was expecting someone different for the second wielder. Not you. Tell me, what year is it? What is the reason you sought out this blade?”

The Voice had told Sidan not to mention their conversation to anyone. Even to the sword’s creator? It _had_ led him towards the sword, even if things with Liv had ended disastrously. Why had it even told him to take a detour towards her house?

Liv… He couldn’t dwell on that.

He didn’t know what to think. So he decided to omit it for now.

“The year is 904, your majesty. I am Sidan, a city guard of Estrellis, capital of the kingdom of Morance. About… five hours ago, the city was attacked by strange monsters, somehow animate masses of razor-sharp metal ribbons. Any resistance was quickly crushed. The queen had a hunch that the sword was inside of this forest, and sent me to retrieve it, to fight back. She… I think the leader of those monsters is after it as well. I had to hurry.”

King Magnus furrowed his eyebrows.

“Please, your majesty, can you tell me what’s going on? You said you did not foresee my arrival, and before that…”

“Around eight hundred and fifty years ago,” the king began, “I received a vision. Premonitions of horned, winged men ravaging the land, slaughtering anyone who stood in their way. Though what I saw was dire, it was also not hopeless. A young hero rose up, wielding a powerful weapon, and bringing hope to anyone who laid their eyes on her. I knew that what I saw would come to pass two centuries in the future. There was only one problem. The weapon did not exist. At least not, yet. I decided against leaving that part up to fate, and got to work.”

King Magnus paced as he spoke, mist billowing in his wake. He had a powerful orating voice, and Sidan found himself listening with rapt attention.

“I never saw myself as better than I really was. I was content to remain the king of a small, mostly irrelevant nation that has since been annexed into your own kingdom. No hard feelings on that, I want to clarify. I held no delusions of grandeur, like so many of my fellow royals did, but I knew that I _was_ good at esoteric magic, the kind that stretched the limits of what was thought possible. If I made a lasting impact on the world, I wanted it to be this. I did not care to be remembered by history. The lives saved would be enough for me. And as I made progress on creating this sword, I received yet more visions, of threats in the even more distant future, and of yet more heroes who would drive back those threats. It was at this point that I decided to turn this blade from a mere tool into a symbol, an eternal icon of hope that would protect humanity for millennia to come. I trapped a small part of my soul in it, so that I could speak with those heroes long after my physical self had passed on. The first time with Luciel worked perfectly, and I slumbered once again. I expected to be woken up again, but not for another century. And not by you. The threat you are fighting against is not one that my visions showed me. And yet…”

“The sword still activated.” Sidan finished.

“Yes. Though I created it, there is still much I do not understand about it. The fact that the sword can bond with you, despite you not being one of those foretold heroes, is another quirk I did not intend. The sword’s full potential will not be as strong for you as it was for Luciel, but it should still work as intended. I wish I could tell you more, but you were in a hurry, no? Have you passed by a house, on your way there? Or met someone named Libra?”

“Libra? Did you mean Liv? Yes, I saw both her and the house. I’m sorry to say, but… she’s dead. By her own hand. She tried to stop me from getting to the sword, and once I beat her, she… She told me her role was to guide the heroes to the sword, and…” Sidan trailed off with a shaking voice.

“Liv? Still hasn’t outgrown that phase, I see,” Magnus muttered, displeased. “In any case, Libra is another one of my creations. Don’t worry about whatever it is you saw. He is immortal in more ways than one. I have to warn you, the sword will start out a shadow of its true power, and unlocking its full potential will be a long and arduous process. Victory against this mysterious enemy of yours will not be quick. Go back to the house. You will be safe there, and all your questions will be answered.”

Sidan felt a huge weight being taken off his chest, even as he was perplexed at the king’s words. Why had he called Liv “Libra”, and referred to her as-

Oh.

“I will not be able to contact you again for a long time, I’m afraid. Before I send you off, is there anything more you’d like to ask?”

“No,” Sidan answered, uncomfortable.

“Good. Though you were not a part of my prophecies, this does not lessen your role in any way. Good luck, Sidan. The fate of the world may very well rest on your shoulders.”

* * *

He was back in the grove, kneeling by the stone. The sword was gone. And his hand…

His right hand had transformed. No longer flesh, but a somehow flexible pink crystal, starting above the wrist. It moved with the same ease his old hand did, though the tactile sensations were muted. Experimentally, he bent down, and picked up a small rock. Without using any magic, he closed his fist, and crushed it into dust. It had been easy.

He held his arm high, and his hand became a blade, the process a bit like flexing a muscle he never realized he had. His sense of touch remained, extended to the whole length of it. Freaky. He swung at nothing a few times, and found it clumsier than just holding a conventional sword. He hoped that he’d get used to it with training.

He carefully brought the tip of a finger to the blade’s edge, and drew blood with the barest of touch. So, he was not immune to his own newfound sharpness. He’d need to be careful while swinging that thing around.

He’d wasted enough time, he decided. He began the walk back towards Liv’s house, pointedly looking away from her dead body, even as he knew that she was somehow fine. Along the way, he swung his arm at a tree trunk, just to see what would happen. It cut all the way through like a hot knife through butter, toppling it.

* * *

Liv’s house came into view as the trees thinned out. The walk back had been quiet. Sidan had spotted a few monsters, but the beasts had given him a wide berth the instant he waved his new toy around. Even out of the moonlight, it had retained some of its glow, in both hand and sword form, making the walk less oppressive than it could have been. He would have gone faster if he could, but he’d been simply too exhausted to do anything more than a brisk walk. He sighed, happy his journey was almost at an end, at least for now.

“Found you.”

The harsh, inhuman voice derailed his thoughts, making his entire body shudder. Sidan turned, eyes wide.

“And, it looks like you’ve been busy.”

The Slicer floated silently in midair, its- _her_ tendrils hypnotically weaving in and around each other. In the gloom, he could see that each of them faintly glowed with a different color, and were not just a dull dark grey like he had previously assumed.

“Give me the sword, and I can let you go on your merry way. I don’t want to hurt-”

Sidan ran, uncaring of what this monster had to say. He had to get to the house.

And then what?

His world turned purple, and up and down ceased making sense as he was launched high up in the air. He landed a second later, disoriented. What had happened? A spell, similar to the one Solel used in the palace’s yard, that had also been purple? Oddly enough, he didn’t feel as hurt as he should have by a fall of this height. A fact which did not escape his opponent.

“So, the sword hardened your body without any additional consumption of magic. Remarkable. Unfortunately for you, it won’t make a difference.”

“Stay back!” Sidan yelled, sword pointed towards the Slicer mage as he scrambled backwards.

She advanced, uncaring. Ribbons snaked out towards him, their intent clear. He swung, the blade effortlessly cutting in half any that touched its edge, but there were simply too many. Before long, he was held in the air in a tight grip, his opponent giving no sign of being hurt by his own attacks. Not that he knew what to look for, what with the lack of face, body, or any similarity he could draw upon.

He tried to struggle free, but those tendrils were strong, much stronger than those of the lesser Slicers he’d faced before. Magic didn’t help either. He might as well have been pushing against a brick wall. His captor chuckled at his ineffectual attempts.

“Let go of me, freak,” Sidan growled.

“I have a name,” she said, vague amusement breaking through that screech of a voice. “It’s Null. And you are?”

He spat at her.

“I see how it is, then,” Null said. “You’re angry at me. I don’t blame you. Your little queen’s gamble actually paid off, yet here I am, snatching victory from your jaws at the last second. But I am getting that sword regardless of your feelings on this matter. What you _can_ control is whether you walk out of here in one piece or not. If it means anything to you, I’d prefer the first option.”

“Go to hell.”

He didn’t even know if he could separate the sword from himself at will, but he wasn’t about to try. Regardless of how hopeless things might have been, he would not give this abomination an easy victory.

“Last chance,” Null said.

Sidan kept quiet. What should he do? What _could_ he do? Super strength? He’d already tried, to no effect. Regeneration? He didn’t see how that would help. Using the sword? His right forearm was kept in a firm grip, and oriented in such a way that he could not cut any more ribbons, no matter how far he bent his wrist. Could he use one of the sword’s more esoteric powers? He had no idea how to use the thing beyond the very basics, and Magnus himself had told him that it would be weak for now.

His heart sank. After all this effort, all this pain, it would just end like this? Him powerless, his enemy taking the one thing that could defeat them before it even got to be used?

“… Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” Null said, quiet.

A ribbon wrapped around his wrist, and rotated, sharp edge against skin. Realizing what was about to happen, Sidan put all of his magic into reinforcing this articulation. It mattered little. The ribbon tightened, inevitable. It cut into his skin. Into his bone. He screamed.

“Hey!”

Null stopped her attempted amputation, a slight shock travelling through her “body”. Even dazed as he was, Sidan thought that Null’s reaction to the unexpected shout was oddly similar to someone being startled. Blinking back tears, he turned his head to look for the source.

Liv, standing behind her open doorway, alive.

She spread her arms, and a _tide_ of paper flew out, barreling towards Null and Sidan like an out-of-control carriage.

Null was hit with the worst of it, and was swept away from the house, towards the trees. Her grip already slackened, she let go of Sidan.

A second, smaller wave wrapped around him, roughly dragging him towards the house at full speed, uncaring of his own comfort.

Null _exploded_ , all the paper covering her launched away in flaming bits. A few of her tendrils glowed green, and they reached for Sidan , stretching like rubber. They wrapped around him, cutting his retreat short, just meters away from the door. Liv pulled with her paper even harder, but all that accomplished was further abuse to his body.

Tendrils pinned his sword arm against his side, hard. He was bleeding badly. Already, he was starting to feel dizzy, his consciousness threatening to slip from him if he let it. But he would not let this monster win. He could not.

“You’re not getting away!” Null yelled, rapidly flying towards him.

Sidan changed his sword back into a considerably shorter hand, reducing the grip Null had on his arm. With a mighty magic augmented heave, he pulled it free.

“Yes, I am,” he replied, quiet.

He changed it back to a sword, and swung, cutting all the ribbons connecting him to Null.

He flew backwards, through the door, and came to a stop by slamming into a wall, his body covered in bloody paper. Liv slammed the door shut, and all noises from the outside vanished.

A few seconds passed.

No Null tearing the door down, and no house-destroying spell came their way.

“Are we safe?” Sidan asked, voice weak.

“Yes,” Liv replied, pale as a sheet.

“Good.”

And with that, he allowed himself to pass out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter should be the end of part 1.  
> As usual, many thanks to the Cauldron server for proofreading.


	8. The Hermit and the Sword 1.7 - A Place to Rest

Sidan slowly returned to consciousness in a warm, wonderfully fluffy embrace. He kept his eyes closed for a long time, simply appreciating the sensations, save for a mild headache. All the same, a part of him was hoping that waking up in a stranger’s bed after losing consciousness wouldn’t become a regular occurrence.

His right hand was numb. He could almost convince himself that he was enjoying a lazy morning back at home, and that the numbness was simply because he had slept on it. But he had to confront reality eventually.

He opened his eyes slowly, and found that he was in a bed, bigger than the previous one. The room was different as well, slightly more spacious, and with only one bookshelf, which he felt was a much more reasonable amount. A soft, white light filtered through the window blinds. Was this Liv’s guest room? Did she even get guests?

And his hand… He hesitantly raised it up to his eyes. Still made of that same pink crystalline material. It hadn’t been a dream.

He took the time to more properly examine it. The material was more opaque in hand form than in sword form, but still partially transparent. By looking at a certain angle, he could _see_ the boundary between his crystal hand and flesh and blood wrist. He thought he was able to spot one of his bones, but couldn’t really tell in the gloom. He reached out to one of the blinds, and opened it a smidge. The light made his headache flare up. He closed it. Potion overuse, probably.

His wrist was wrapped up in a clean bandage. Had Liv changed it for him while he was still sleeping? He tried to activate his regeneration around his wrist, and didn’t feel the familiar sensation of his flesh knitting itself together. He eagerly unwrapped it, and was pleased to see undamaged, if tender, skin.

The doorknob turned, and Liv entered, carrying a water canteen. Upon noticing Sidan’s wakeful state, she stood in place, avoiding his gaze. He reciprocated.

“… Hello, Sidan,” she said, after an awkward few seconds.

“Hi,” he replied, throat hoarse. He coughed. “Water?”

Liv handed him the canteen, and he greedily drank, wonderful sensations spreading through his throat.

“I suppose I should apologize,” Liv said, when he had drunk his fill. “You were right. That monster _was_ after the sword. If it had gotten a hold of it, then… In any case, I’m sorry.”

“It’s…” Sidan stumbled. ‘Fine’ had been the first word that came to mind, but that wasn’t quite true, was it? He understood Liv’s reasons, after his talk with Magnus, but she _had_ gotten close to killing him, towards the end of their fight. He didn’t want to hound her over it and make things between them even more strained, but that wasn’t something he could forget just like that either.

“I understand,” he said, instead. “I had a conversation with your… creator, after touching the sword. He told me that the Slicers were not one of the threats his visions had shown him, but that the sword had somehow still activated. He wanted to tell me more, but I was on a time limit, so he ended the vision after telling me the basics.”

“That’s odd…” Liv said. “But it would explain a lot. In any case, you probably still have a lot of questions, yes? You and I are going to see each other a lot over the coming months and years, assuming that things don’t get even weirder. So, ask away.”

“Ok,” he said. “First of all, why did you feel the need to decapitate yourself in front of me?”

“Ah, that. As you probably realized by now, my immortality goes beyond just my age. Whenever I die, I get reborn back into this house after a time, all my wounds gone. Killing myself was just the quickest way to heal my arms. I was planning to track you down once this was done, but…”

“Couldn’t you have told me? Do you have any idea how traumatized I was, seeing you do that? And what were you even planning to do to me, if the Slicer mage hadn’t been here?”

At this, Liv looked genuinely mortified, and took some time to compose her response.

“I’m sorry about that. I really am. You have to understand, it’s been a _long_ time since I showed off my powers to anyone. Back when I was with Luciel and the others, this was a trick I used often to get out of hairy situations, or just to heal myself after a bad injury. They got used to it, eventually, but you obviously haven’t.”

That was… a lot to take in. He could certainly see the applications of such an ability, but it wasn’t something he wanted to see often. Or ever, for that matter.

“As for what I would have done… Well, I wasn’t thinking too highly of you while my arms were broken. I’m sure you understand. I wanted to find you, and take the sword back by force, if necessary. But while I was being reborn, I had some time to cool down, and… I wasn’t so sure anymore. Then you and this monster showed up before I could set out, and I was spared from having to make that choice.”

The idea that Liv might have been the one trying to dismember him if Null hadn’t shown up when she had was disturbing, to say the least. Still, Sidan appreciated the honesty.

“You said you resurrect inside this house whenever you die. How exactly does that work?”

“That isn’t something I’m willing to tell you,” Liv said, lips tight. “Not yet, at least.”

Alright then. He wouldn’t press the issue, for now.

“How long was I out?”

“About three hours.”

Sidan frowned.

“Shouldn’t it still be nighttime, then? Where is that light coming from? And how exactly did we escape from Null in the first place?” Sidan asked.

“Null?”

“It’s what the Slicer mage called itself. Herself,” he corrected.

“Ah,” Liv frowned. “I think it’s better to show you than to tell you. Are you okay to stand?”

“I think so. But the light is giving me a headache.”

“Do you want to wait for a bit? We can-”

“It’s fine,” he cut her off. “I can handle it.”

He should probably stay in bed a little while longer, but he was really curious now.

On shaky legs, he followed Liv out the guest room, and out of the house.

The light blinded him, and he took a few minutes just waiting for his eyes to adjust and for his pounding headache to fade to a bearable level. And when it did…

“Wow,” was all he could say.

Liv’s house no longer stood in a forest clearing, but in a space similar to the one he had talked with Magnus in.

The ground was also covered in mist, but much thinner. He could see the floor this time, made of dry, featureless grey stone, with no layer of water. The sky was pure white, and seemed to be the primary source of light, whereas in the vision the illumination had been omni-directional. 

And unlike Magnus’s realm, this one wasn’t just an infinite, empty plain. Scattered all around the house, he could spot dozens of person-sized, floating crystals. At first glance, they looked transparent, but if he unfocused his gaze a bit, he thought he could catch glimpses of buildings, people, and landscapes peeking through. More like slices in reality than solid, physical objects. In the distance was a hazy, near opaque red barrier that encircled the house and crystals. Red lightning occasionally crackled across its surface, as if it contained a raging storm that threatened to break free at any seconds.

“What exactly am I looking at?” Sidan asked, once he recovered the ability to form coherent thoughts.

“Welcome, Sidan, to the Wanderer’s Halls — no relation to the Wanderers United travel agency — another creation of King Magnus. As he might have told you, the sword will start out weak, little more than a very sharp blade, and it will take time before its full potential is unlocked. Though not strictly necessary, this space will make the process much smoother.”

Liv spread her arms dramatically, making the same sort of sweeping motions as when she’d been controlling her paper.

“You could say that my house is the doorway to the Halls, and myself the key. Whenever I’m inside it, I can bring it in here with a thought, and back to the outside world as well. As you saw, this can be used as a quick escape from danger. Furthermore…”

Liv pointed at the nearest crystal. She seemed more at ease now than she had before. More in her element.

“Each of these crystals correspond to a location in the outside world. Their positioning is roughly accurate to the real thing as well. The one I’m pointing to, for example, is in the capital of the Kingdom of Korelon, which isn’t all that far from Valronia. In any case, you can activate one of them, and the next time my house leaves the halls, it will appear there. Luciel and the others used this to quickly travel all over the hemisphere, long before teleporting diagrams were invented. Of course, there’s some subtleties to their operation, but I’ll tell you about those once you’ve completely recovered.”

“You said hemisphere, instead of world. Does that mean this thing is…” Sidan trailed off, pointing at the red wall in the distance.

“The Boundary,” Liv answered. “Or at least, its representation within this space. I’ve spotted some crystals beyond it, but no matter how hard I try, I can’t breach it.”

The Boundary. A perpetual, violent storm, of clearly magical origins. Since before recorded history, it had raged in a nearly perfect, unmoving circle that went all the way from the north pole to the south pole. Though it had strangely little effect on the weather and climate, it had a much bigger impact on exploration; namely, half of the planet was completely locked away.

No one knew what awaited on the other side. Other continents, full of fascinating wonders and unique cultures? Just empty ocean? Or perhaps the storm simply never ended, and half of the globe was just constantly ravaged by winds that could capsize ships, and lightning that could vaporize even the strongest of forcefields. There had been many attempts at expeditions, of course, but most of them wisely turned back once they realized they couldn’t weather Mother Nature at her most furious. The few that didn’t… well, no one wasted too much time holding out hope for their return. Nowadays, many nations outright prohibited expeditions into the Boundary until the next major breakthrough in defensive magic would come about.

Every scholar and religion had their own hypothesis for the boundary. Many believed that the other side was their own version of heaven, while others took the opposite road and claimed it was hell. Personally, Sidan had never cared too much. Academics had never been his thing, and he viewed the question much like he did for other great unsolved mysteries – while he wouldn’t mind an answer, he wasn’t itching for one either, and he’d leave the thinking to the people actually qualified for it.

But now? Sidan wouldn’t lie and say that his interest in this topic hadn’t been renewed. Was there really no way to get past this barrier? It certainly looked punier in the Wanderer’s Halls than it did in the outside world. The fact that there were crystals beyond it seemed to suggest that there was _some_ solid ground on the other side of the globe. He would have to take a closer look later.

“I wouldn’t get too close to it if I were you,” Liv added. “At least not until you get stronger. That lightning isn’t just for show. And unlike me, you can only die once.”

Or not. He shook his head, changing the topic to something more productive. The motion didn’t do wonders for his headache.

“Is there a crystal that leads inside Estrellis? If so, we could use it to bypass the Slicers’ forcefield. We might even be able to rescue some people!”

His mother would be safe, inside of this space. If he could get to her…

Liv frowned, dashing his hopes to pieces.

“Ah, that,” she said. “I think it’s better if I show you.”

They circled around the house, coming to a stop close to a crystal that had been hidden from view. This one was grey, unmoving. Sidan didn’t catch any glimpses of the outside world through it. Just the mists’ refraction, and a faint reflection of his own face.

“I’ve never seen anything like it. I tried to activate it while you were out, but nothing I did worked. I assume this has to do with this forcefield you mentioned, but…”

Solel _had_ said the barrier around Estrellis was unlike any she’d ever seen. And its grey color had matched that of the crystal’s. It wasn’t unreasonable to assume that it could block the Hall’s method of transportation. And yet, something about this felt strange, off. A second later, he realized what was bothering him.

“But”—Sidan frowned—“ _I_ escaped Estrellis through a teleporter. So did others. Are you telling me that this forcefield can’t block a well known contraption that’s been in use for over a hundred years, but _can_ block… whatever it is that this place does?”

“I- I don’t know, Sidan. The two probably work through different principles. There’s no proof the forcefield is responsible anyway.”

“They _probably_ work through different principles?”

“I said I don’t know!” Liv snapped. She took a deep breath, then continued, more composed.

“I know how to operate everything that Magnus built, but how they actually work, on a magical level? Completely beyond me. Also beyond modern magical theory, based on my own research. And he didn’t leave anything behind that would bring me closer to understanding it. I’m grateful to him for giving me life, but I never even met the man. Or if I did, I don’t remember it. But based on what Luciel told me of her talks with him, I’m not sure I’d want to anyway.”

 _Still hasn’t outgrown that phase, I see,_ Magnus had said when Sidan had called her Liv instead of Libra. If he had said something similar to Luciel, he completely understood why Liv had her reservations about the man.

“Not all hope is lost, Sidan,” Liv said, picking up on his worries. “The sword will give you access to many strange and unique abilities, once it has grown in power. One of them might be able to unlock it, or break that barrier.”

He turned away from the crystal, trying to clear his thoughts. No point dwelling on this, when he couldn’t do anything about it right now.

“So, this all sounds very useful, but how will it help unlock the sword’s true potential? Thinking about it, does it even have a name? When people just say ‘the sword’ without any additional context, this is usually what they mean, but I’d like a more descriptive term.”

“I don’t think it has one. Maybe Magnus just couldn’t think of a name for it? Luciel called it the ‘Spinel Shard’ at first, but she stopped pretty quickly. I just thought it sounded kind of stupid. As for how to power it up… Luciel’s Companions. They weren’t just people she picked up along the way. They’re essential to the process. The sword guided her to them.”

Liv stepped away from the crystal, walking back to the house. Sidan followed her.

“Over the coming months and years, all over the hemisphere, extraordinary individuals will draw the sword to them like moths to a flame. They will find themselves in seemingly hopeless situations, brought on by this current crisis. This is where you come in. With the help of the Halls, you will quickly be able to find them, and then assist them with whatever their problem is. This will unlock the sword’s next level of power, and in order to keep it there, you’ll need to convince them to join you on your adventures.”

Sidan stared skeptically at Liv.

“That’s it? I was expecting something… more,” he said.

“Oh, it’s not as easy as you think,” Liv replied with a small chuckle. “As it turns out, most people aren’t all that willing to join you on a dangerous quest to save the world, even if you solve their problems for them beforehand. It’ll be up to us to figure out what makes them tick, and make their time with us worthwhile.”

“Us?” he asked.

“Well, yes. I’m not just going to idly stand by while you do all the work. I was created to assist and guide the sword’s holder. And my embarrassing earlier performance aside, I can handle myself in a fight. With a bit of training, I’ll be back in top form in no time.”

“I can’t help but feel this is all… manipulative. Us going around the world, solving people’s problems so that they join us and make me stronger? Are we even sure that those Companions exist, this time around, what with the lack of a prophecy?”

“Well, when you put it like that…” Liv drawled. “But nothing is stopping you from using your newfound power to help people during your downtime. And yes, there might be an ulterior motive behind this, but the Companions will be made aware of this, and at the end of the day, the world will be made a better place for our actions. For your other question, I wouldn’t be too concerned. If Magnus didn’t say anything regarding that subject, then they probably do exist.”

“And what about that ‘chosen hero’ you mentioned earlier? The one who can supposedly wield the sword the most effectively. Should we maybe seek them out?”

“If they even exist, then they probably don’t matter. They could be literally anywhere, and we’d have no way of finding them. Luciel was guided to me because Magnus knew she was the one, and he made plans for her that went into effect after his death. I assume he did the same for the future holders of the sword that he also knows about. Without that, there’s no way to know.”

Alright then. So Sidan was probably stuck with this weapon for the long term. A small part of him had still hoped that he could weasel out of that responsibility, somehow, but it looked like that wouldn’t happen. At least he wouldn’t be doing this alone.

“So, do you have any idea how all this actually works? How does… helping a few select people lead to the sword getting stronger?” he asked, really hoping Liv wasn’t as clueless on this subject as the previous one.

“I do actually. Well, I don’t know how the sword was made, or how it works, but I know what powers it. Hope.”

“Hope?”

“Yes, you heard me correctly. Somehow, Magnus found a way to generate incredible amounts of magic through sheer, raw hope, with this sword as a focal point. It uses not only the newfound hope of your newest Companion, but also the general hope of the populace, as you, and they, make more and more progress. Luciel received her biggest power boosts when she recruited a new Companion, but she also got slightly stronger over time, as we got better and better at fighting the demons, and they slowly retreated back to the Underworld.”

Sidan stared at her, his headache pounding.

“What are you thinking about?” Liv asked. “Anything more you want to know?”

“I think,” Sidan answered, “that I’ll go back to sleep, for now, and leave any harder thinking for later.”

“Not a bad idea,” Liv answered with a small smile. “If you’re hungry, you can help yourself to any food in my kitchen.”

“By food, do you mean the honey, candies, and multiple packets of sugar?”

Liv blushed at the sarcastic comment.

“Err, that. I already told you that I don’t need to eat, but I still enjoy the taste of food. And since I don’t have to watch my weight, I thought, you know…”

“That you’d eat like a toddler whose parents weren’t looking.”

“Look, everyone has their vices, okay? I’ll get you some real food before you starve, don’t worry.”

Sidan chuckled to himself as he walked back towards the guest room. Maybe Liv and he would get along, after all.

He hit the bed, and within minutes, was out like a light.

* * *

_And thus, I ask of you to remain calm._

Estrel frowned, rereading the line she had just written down. Was ‘thus’ too formal a word? Would it make her seem too disconnected from the common people, in a time where she needed to guide them more than ever? She crossed it out, and squeezed in a ‘so’, just in case.

_And so ~~thus~~ , I ask of you to remain calm. This is a difficult time for all of us_

Well. It certainly would be a lot easier for her than for the average Estrellian. She wouldn’t have to worry about food or money, for once. Some people might interpret that line negatively.

She pressed her face into her hands, defeated. Why was speech writing so _hard_? She normally had people on her staff to do it for her, but well… They weren’t here right now. Escaped, like everyone in the palace save for herself and the Royal Guard. The latter had announced her surrender to the people, but she’d still need to make a public appearance soon and address her citizens directly. She’d planned to leave the speech writing for tomorrow, and had focused on more pressing matters instead.

But soon after she had finished a debriefing with various high-ranking members of Estrellis’s armed and magical forces, Null had barged into her room, triumphant. She’d claimed that she had located the other side of the teleporter, gloated for a bit, and left. On its own, that hadn’t been a shock. Her plan had always been a long shot, and that it had worked for as long as it had was a small miracle. Still… it hurt. She’d been ready to go to bed, and get at least a few hours of sleep so that she could tackle tomorrow to the best of her abilities.

Now? She had to do something, _anything_ to feel productive. And thus, here she was, slaving away at a terrible speech, tears of frustration almost spilling from her eyes as the light of dawn was starting to filter through her window.

“You will be pleased to learn that your little stunt worked.”

Estrel turned around, red, puffy eyes staring at the intruder. Null had sneaked into her room without her noticing, and just floated there, ribbons gently swaying.

She turned the words inside her head. Individually, they all made sense, but together, tired as she was…

Null saved her from having to think too hard.

“The guard. He got to the sword before I did. And, he escaped.”

Sidan had gotten the sword? Already? Did he go looking for it on his own, instead of forming a search party like she had told him? Well, she could hardly fault him, if he had succeeded. Technically, he hadn’t followed _her_ plan to the letter, but Null didn’t need to know that. Estrel allowed herself a little smile.

“Don’t be so smug,” Null told her. “It won’t make a difference. The sword was weak. Nothing like it’s described in your legends. Sharp, yes, but it will take more than a sharp piece of crystal to defeat me. His escape came down to pure luck.”

Estrel tuned Null out. There was a possibility that she was lying, but Estrel didn’t see how that would benefit Null. To give Estrel false hopes, perhaps? That didn’t fit. It was clear by now that Null was trying to cultivate an image of inevitable power, the kind of conqueror who didn’t feel the need to lie, because whatever she said or did was so much worse for her adversaries than any fiction she could imagine. And yet…

There were cracks in that façade. Null wasn’t unstoppable. She had been set back twice in the last few hours. First by Estrel herself, and then by Sidan, apparently. At the end of the day, Null still came out as the undisputed winner, but it could have been far worse for them.

_You love the sound of your own voice, but you didn’t say anything back then until I addressed you directly. Were you still unsure of what you wanted your persona to be?_

_You waited until the very last moment to reveal yourself, and that gave Sidan the opportunity to escape. Did you want to make a dramatic entrance? Or were you just nervous?_

_This is your first time doing this, isn’t it? You aren’t a flawless mastermind, or an unstoppable force of nature. You’re a regular person who is in way over her (metaphorical) head, but expects something in return. You just happen to look very strange, and to have a lot more power than most._

She really hoped her hypothesis was correct.

“What do you want, Null?” Estrel asked.

“I already told you,” Null scoffed. “My master will–”

“I do not care what your master wants, right now,” Estrel cut her off. “I care what _you_ want.”

Null didn’t answer for several seconds.

“You could say I’m someone who just wants a promise to be fulfilled,” she finally said, subdued.

She floated towards the doorway, then stopped.

“Good night, little queen. I eagerly await to see how you’ll surprise me next.”

With one last chuckle, she was gone.

Estrel finally allowed herself to relax. She would finish that stupid speech this afternoon, she decided. Before that, sleep, if only for a few hours. She forcibly squashed down her guilt at not doing more. She’d take whatever victories she could get.

* * *

“Liv, you here?” Sidan shouted.

No response came. The house wasn’t very big, so she was probably outside.

Sidan was feeling surprisingly well rested. He had no idea how long he had slept, but he wasn’t sure if that mattered. Keeping a consistent sleep schedule in a place without a day/night cycle might prove to be pretty hard anyway.

His headache was gone, but he was ravenous, and he helped himself to Liv’s sweets pantry. It did the trick, for now, but he’d really need to put actual food in his stomach soon.

“Liv?” Sidan asked again once out of the house.

“Up here!” was the answer.

He craned his head upwards. Liv was sitting on the roof’s edge, taking sips from a canteen. He climbed the house with a quick burst of strength, and sat next to her.

“What are you doing?” Sidan asked.

“Just thinking. Drinking,” Liv replied.

“Drinking what?”

She wordlessly offered him the canteen.

“You’re not gonna try and poison me, are you?” he asked, half-joking.

She rolled her eyes, and insisted. He took the drink, and cautiously sniffed it. It smelled like booze, but beyond that he couldn’t say what. Well, might as well. He took a swig, and almost spit it out.

“Not poison me my ass!” he said between coughing fits. “What the hell is this?”

“Liquor made from local berries and mushrooms. Homemade. It takes a lot for me to get drunk, but I enjoy the taste.”

Once the burning sensation had receded, Sidan took another sip, more carefully this time. The liquor was strong, but also had an interesting aftertaste. He didn’t mind it. He passed the canteen back, and for a few minutes, they just sat there, admiring the sights and occasionally passing the drink to each other.

Maybe it was the alcohol talking, but Sidan found himself strangely relaxed in Liv’s presence.

“You mind if I ask you a few more questions?” he broke the silence.

“No, go ahead,” Liv said.

“This might be a bit awkward, but… are you always made of paper? Or is that just a thing when you’re, you know… dead?”

“… Yes, I’m always made of paper. Everything is paper except for my blood. My skin is paper, my organs are paper, my bones are some kind of hardened cardboard, and my hair is paper fiber.”

“Do your insides get mushy because of your blood? Or when you drink?”

“I can’t help but feel this line of questioning is a little personal,” Liv replied, deadpan.

“Sorry, sorry, I’m just curious,” Sidan said, holding his hands up. “But on a more serious note… what do you do all day, when you’re not out saving the world? Do you have a job?”

“I do actually. I may live away from civilization, but I’m not a complete hermit. As for what I do, I sell books, naturally. Matter decays more slowly in the Halls, and in my house by extension. Over the centuries I’ve gathered a lot of valuable tomes that interested collectors will pay good money for. And thanks to the Halls I can have clients all over the hemisphere. I’ve gotten friendly with a few of them and invite them over sometimes, hence the guest room. I don’t do sales often, so it doesn’t pay all that much, but I’m pretty self-sufficient. And what about you, Sidan? What’s your story?”

“I’m a pretty normal guy. Whatever I tell you won’t be half as exciting as what you tell me.”

“You’d be surprised. Living as long as I have, you learn to find interest in even the most mundane of things. Otherwise, you’ll quickly grow bored of everything.”

“Well then. I’ve lived in Estrellis most of my life, but I wasn’t born there. My parents lived for a while in Sheathria, in the southern continent. When I was two, I guess they got homesick, and they moved back to Estrellis. I grew up there, and I joined the City Guard two years back. Then, the Slicers attacked, and by chance I met the Grandmaster of Estrellis. A descendant of Luciel, actually. You heard of her?”

“Yes,” said Liv. She was frowning a bit.

“Well, she asked me to act as a spotter, to warn her of any sneak attacks by the Slicers, and we made our way to the palace. The Queen was there, and before she could finish powering up the throne room’s teleporter and have us escape, Null showed up and destroyed it. We ran for a hidden teleporter, but the Queen stopped her guards and gave me the mission to find the sword. I found your house by chance, and… here I am, I guess.”

He conveniently left out the part where the Queen had told him to form a search party instead of going alone, and had only done the latter after the Voice had told him to. Not to mention that Liv’s house had definitely not been found by chance.

“Why you specifically?” Liv asked. “No offence, but…”

“None taken. I’ve been wondering that myself. She said that Null had come prepared, and that since I was the only nobody there, I had the best chance to slip beneath her notice and actually escape. I understand her logic, but… she seemed very confident about an awful lot of things she had no evidence for. I have no idea why she was so sure that Null would catch up to us before the secret teleporter finished charging, for one. Or why she even knew that Null was a girl. But, in the end, it worked out, I guess?”

Liv grunted in affirmation, and didn’t say anything else.

“Luciel. Tell me about her,” Sidan said, after a few seconds.

“Huh? Why do you want to know?” Liv said, oddly defensive.

“Well, who wouldn’t? Besides, you told me she was a real person, not just a legend. She was practically a religious figure to me when I grew up. Hell, she’s an actual religious figure for some. But I’d like to know the actual woman behind the myths, if I’m going to be following in her footsteps. I want to know more about Luciel, not the Daughter of Light, or the Demonbane, or whatever other title you can think of. If that makes sense.”

Liv relaxed, adopting a thoughtful expression.

“I’m not sure how much I could tell you that you don’t already know. While my body is immortal, I’m afraid my mind isn’t. Much as it pains me to say, I’ve forgotten a lot about my time with her. I remember the broad strokes, but it was so long ago that many of the details have been lost to me.”

“Try,” he said.

“Well, she was… amazing. That might sound pretty generic, but it’s the first word that comes to mind. She could play the part of the perfect hero when she needed to. Inspire everyone around her, organize armies and lead us fearlessly into battles. But she could also be just, so fun, when the stakes were less high. You wouldn’t expect that from her at all, knowing her noble upbringing. When you needed a shoulder to cry on, she was there, and she accepted everything you threw her way without question. She-”

Liv’s voice cracked, and she quickly wiped her eyes.

“Sorry, got a bit emotional there,” she said.

“It’s fine,” Sidan replied tersely, his previous good mood evaporated.

Was he really supposed to compete against _that_? He had his own strengths, but… He was no leader. He certainly wouldn’t call himself ‘amazing’. Liv was clearly a little biased, but he could believe her roaring endorsement. Was there really no way to track down the sword’s optimal wielder?

Did Liv’s assessment of Luciel really match the Voice? His mysterious guide had told him that it wasn’t _exactly_ Luciel, but it had surely inherited some of her personality. If it wasn’t lying, why did it tell him to keep their conversation a secret? It if was lying, how did him getting the sword benefit it? Could he trust the Voice? Could he trust Liv, and Magnus? Something big was at play here, something that he couldn’t grasp yet.

“How about we go into town and get you some food, or whatever else you need? I’ll show you how the crystals work.” Liv said.

 _She isn’t your friend,_ a small, traitorous part of his mind piped up. _She tried to get rid of you, before. She’ll do it again the moment you’re no longer useful to her._

 _That’s not true,_ he shot back. _We were both working on incomplete information. Now that we’ve cleared things up, she’s been nothing but kind to me._

There was no reply. But the doubt remained. He tried to ignore it. He couldn’t falter now, not when so much was at stake.

“Let’s,” he answered.

**End of Part 1 – The Hermit and the Sword**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's it for part 1. I'll probably take a break as I outline part 2. As usual, many thanks to the Cauldron discord for proofreading. Thank you all for reading.


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